


Valley of the Horse King

by Chngminxo



Series: Tales from Huingol [1]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Violence, alternate universe - king/concubine, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6590587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chngminxo/pseuds/Chngminxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after he is taken by raiders, Junhong is liberated from his captive home and taken to the court of his benevolent King - but behind regal doors lies the tangled web of jealousy, lust, duty and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Valley of the Horse King](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844670) by [Liclick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liclick/pseuds/Liclick)



Junhong was sixteen when the raiders came. They had no time to prepare, no time to take up arms and houses burned before their eyes. Some tried to flee to their boats but were slaughtered on the beach, strong hands around biceps, a bag over his head, Junhong was taken. He blocked out memories from that day and the days following, he did not want to remember the screaming, or the smell of burning flesh. No one could ever know when it would happen. One moment the day would be crawling along through heat and sun, the next the sky is black with smoke, the air filled with death.

 

It was three years later when his master's palace was overrun. The Lord Kang, was not a beloved man, and whispers through the palatial complex spoke of the imminent move of the King's armies to recover their land from Lord Kang's power hungry ambition. Once again the sky filled with smoke, and once again he was taken.

 

Junhong flinched as he was pulled forward harshly. An iron collar circled his throat with a chain attached to it as he was lead, filthy and almost bare along a well worn road. Tall, chestnut brown horses surrounded him, their riders decorated with the insignia of their king as they followed the mountain highway in search of the grand capital city.

 

“I am surprised not to hear more complaints from you, boy,” a man's voice sounded. Junhong rose his gaze from his filthy, bloodied feet, looking upon the general, to who's saddle his lead was attached. The hard leader of a disciplined platoon of soldiers, General Kwon was not a kind man and Junhong was sure that someone could not rise to that rank with anything but a hard hand, “pampered brats usually complain.”

 

Junhong remained silent, simply dipping his head low again. He had been separated from the others taken from Lord Kang's palace. He wasn't sure why he himself had been singled out, but he couldn't bare to look back in search of them. He did not want to think about what these soldiers would do to the maids and concubines taken from their palace home, especially since he was sure not all the spoils of war would be as silent as he.

 

The cavalry passed a rocky outcrop and entered a thin pass. Junhong shivered, it was getting cold where they were high up in the mountains, and as the horses filed through one by one he wondered if this area would soon be dusted with snow. The stones were cold under his feet, but he considered himself lucky to be walking pressed so close to the warm body of the horse to which he was bound.

 

“Do not worry, mutt. I'm sure we'll have you talking when we make it to Huingol.” the General spoke, a chuckle echoing in the battalion around them, “My men work hard. They fight hard, spending weeks or months away from home. They deserve a reward, and your body will prove to be a good one.” The general's words were met again with silence and Junhong continued to walk with his head held high because he would not be phased by such threats or intimidations.

 

The troops rounded another corner as the mountain pass they filed through opened up to expose a deep valley. He felt as though the breath had been knocked from his lungs as Junhong lay eyes on the White Valley for the first time. The silver stone of the harsh mountains dipped low and faded into a lush green of forest that surrounded the tall stone walls of the capital city. Rows of red-roofed houses were nestled side by side like troops in formation while royal palace rose fiercely from the centre. Where they stood, it looked as though the palace was carved from solid gold, appearing to glow in the fading light while the crimson tiled roof stood out like a burning flame.

 

“Is she not beautiful,” the general spoke. Junhong was starting to believe the man enjoyed the sound of his own voice, yet he couldn't help but agree. He didn't think he had ever seen anything quite so sublime, “This mountain pass we have come through is one of only three. Three ways in, and three ways out. Huingol is almost impossible to invade, that is why she has has endured and remained impenetrable for hundreds of years.” A lone rider came to meet them, mounted on the back of a black horse. The ranks of men parted to allow the messenger entry,

 

“The King is eager for your return, General Kwon. Welcome home.” The General bowed his head, and the army began their descent.

 

*

 

Lord Kang's complex had been lavish for their small city, but it was nothing compared to this. Junhong had thought the outside of the palace had been exceptional, but he was ill prepared for the beauty of its inside. The halls were wide, the spaces vast. The walls were a deep crimson red, and the floors a golden stone that shone in the light of the sun that peered through the shuttered windows.

 

“Walk faster.” the General hissed, glaring at the boy over his shoulder. Junhong's fair skin was marred with mud and filth, his body stripped naked other than the white cloth that covered from his navel to his upper thighs. His hair was matted to his face and his skin was sticky with sweat. It was humiliating, to go from being his Lord's most prized possession to a shamed slave, being dragged along by a collar like a dog.

 

Ahead, two heavily armed guards pulled open a set of large bronze doors, allowing them entrance to a magnificent hall. People lined the walls, men dressed in rich robes, women more beautiful than he had ever seen, musicians with their instruments perched over their laps ready to entertain. In the centre of the room, directly ahead, there was a throne made out of a dark ebony wood and decorated in plated gold. Atop it with natural ease sat the King.

 

He was young, that was universally known. His hair was jet black and tied away from his face, elegantly resting in a bun upon the centre of his head. Pierced through it rested a decorative pin, donned with the silhouette of a stallion. His lips were full and soft while his eyes were dark, they reminded Junhong of an impending storm.

 

“Your Majesty!” General Kwon spoke. He rose his arms before bowing low, giving a purposeful tug on the chain, causing Junhong to jerk forward. He dropped to his knees, his head bowed low, “Lord Kang's lands have been taken, his palaces liberated. He will no longer be able to damage your kingdom, or threaten our people.”

 

“Well done in your successes, General.” The King spoke, his voice was deep and smooth like water over stone.

 

“We have brought back bounty from the south,” Kwon spoke, pulling parchment from his robes. He unfurled it , “There are cattle, horses, soldiers, farmers. We have land for pasture, and land for mining, and of course, your Royal Highness, we have women, and concubines.” Junhong felt sick as his collar was tugged on, almost causing him to lose balance. He would never claim to have cared for Lord Kang, he was as cruel as he was violent. He feasted on power, and relished in the suffering of those weaker than him, but in his palace there was kindness. Gentle servants who cared for Junhong, who put ointment to his wounds after each beating, or calmed him when he was afraid. He did not want to know what this general would do to them now.

 

“Who is the boy?” the King spoke, his hand running down the arm of his throne, his eyes surveying with curiosity.

 

“He is Lord Kang's prized possession, his favourite toy. He was found chained in the throne room, where they kept him during the day for entertainment,” the General said, tugging on Junhong's binds once again. He lurched forward, his head raising so their King could lay eyes upon his face. The man carefully rose from where he sat, not sparing a glance to the cart being wheeled in, a sample of the riches looted from their conquered neighbours. He stepped closer, but did not touch, simply surveying over Junhong's dirty features, “I thought I could take him back to my camp. Show him how soldiers would treat such a spoiled brat.” the General spoke, his voice electric with excitement.

 

“What is your name?” The King asked, ignoring Kwon.

 

“Junhong, Your Majesty.” the southerner responded. His voice was soft, unused. The King tilted his head, as though testing how the name felt rolling around his mind,

 

“Where are you from, Junhong. Before you were a resident of Lord Kang's palace?” Junhong's mouth was dry, his palms sweaty. He had never before laid eyes on a king, or imagined one would utter his name.

 

“I am from the coast, Your Majesty. From a fishing village,” he responded honestly.

 

The King extended a hand, gently cupping Junhong's jaw and guiding his head up so their eyes could meet, “And how did you come to be under your Lord's ownership?”

 

“I was bounty, Your Majesty. I was the only survivor from the raid of my village. He chose to take me, rather than kill me.” Junhong watched as the King nodded, releasing his jaw.

 

“General Kwon, return the livestock and farmers to their lands, the horses to their stables. Discharge the captured soldiers to begin the reconstruction of Lord Kang's town. We will find a man in our court to administer his lands, and take his place. Someone who will be faithful to the crown and not abuse his power,” he said, turning his stormy eyes to focus on his general. “Return the women to their homes, and release your captured concubines, tell them they do not have to return to Lord Kang's property. They are free to return to their homes.”

 

“But your majesty--” Kwon spluttered, like a child stripped of his toys.

 

“Return them.” the King said, “I am not a tyrant, General Kwon, and I will not allow you to make me look like one.” He was expressionless, his spine straight, “Go.”

 

The general was flushed red in the face, Junhong supposed from anger. He gasped as his binds were pulled harshly, wincing for a moment as he scrambled to his feet to follow the General's haste, almost tripping over his own feet. “Keep silent boy,” the man snapped as a sound of discomfort slipped past Junhong's cracked lips. They were almost to the door when the King called from behind them,

 

“General Kwon.” The man stopped still, Junhong almost running into him, “Leave the boy.” The General stood rigid for what felt like an age, before he dropped the chain in his hand, the harsh metal landing on the stone with a resonant clang. General Kwon did not look over his shoulder as he retreated down the hall.

 

Junhong stood straight and carefully turned around before he dropped once again to his knees on the floor. His hands followed as he bowed low, his forehead and the tip of his nose brushing the cold stone. Silk slipper clad feet stopped before him,

 

“Stand, Junhong.” The boy did as he was told immediately, carefully rising to his bare feet. Mud was caked between his toes, cuts marring his ankles and shins from the miles he had been forced to walk from Lord Kang's property. “My name is Yongguk. Do you know what that means, Junhong?”

 

He swallowed, his own eyes rising to look upon his King's handsome face, “' _Yong_ means appearance or pride, Your Majesty.” Junhong began, “ _Guk_ means country. _Yongguk_ means _Pride of the Country._ ”

 

“That is correct, Junhong.” Yongguk said, his hands sliding up over the younger's throat. He dipped his fingers gently beneath the collar, sliding out the bolt that kept it fastened. It popped open and Junhong exhaled, his eyes fluttering closed as the collar was carefully removed, “You are a smart boy. What did Lord Kang keep you for?”

 

“I was his entertainment, Your Majesty.” Junhong said, swallowing, “I danced for him, and I played music for him among other things. I did all that he required of me.” Yongguk nodded his head, tossing the collar aside on the floor. He rose his right hand and beckoned in the air, a middle-aged woman approaching from the side.

 

“What instruments did you play?” The King questioned with a curious eye.

 

“I play many things, Your Majesty, but my talents excel in the Gayageum.” He confessed, knowing that he should only admit to what he could play well as he did not wish to disappoint the King. Yet Yongguk did not reply, he simply turned to address the woman he had called to his side.

 

“Draw him a bath. Add sandalwood to the water, and take his measurements. I want clothes made for him. Until then, dress him in a robe that will fit. When he is clean, bring him to my chambers.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty” the woman responded, and began to usher Junhong from the throne room. He nervously looked to her, following her guidance through the wide halls. He was disoriented and confused, jumping as he heard the sound of the bronze doors closing behind them, “Come, Boy. I will make sure you are washed.”

 

“Wh-who are you?” Junhong asked, his teeth worrying at his plush lower lip. She was small, but slim. Her long black hair tied from her face while her body was dressed in soft grey robes. She looked much older than Yongguk, almost as old as the General who had brought him to this place, but her eyes were kind and as she steered Junhong through the palace he felt more at ease.

 

“My name is Kim Hwayah,” she said. The low thrum of sound that echoed through the palace was fainter as they moved from the wide halls to elegant rooms, until Hwayah was guiding him through regal doors into what seemed like a far more private part of the palace, “I take care of the domestic side of His Majesty's life,” she said. Junhong nodded his head, stopping still as she parted from him. He stood in the doorway of a large room, the walls and floor a deep rusted red and a large bronze bath sat in the middle. Opposite the door was a large window that looked out onto a green courtyard and the sound of running water trickled into the small room. Hwayah sent for warm water and sandalwood oil, “Undress, Junhong-ah. They will return soon so you can bathe.”

 

He hesitated, looking to her with an uncertain eye, but she simply smiled, “I have been bathing Yongguk-ah since he was a child. Do not fret, I will not look,” her voice swelled with amusement.

 

Junhong tipped his head at the familiar title she used for their King, “You are a friend of His Majesty?” he asked, his voice soft as he carefully peeled off his filthy cloth, dropping it to the floor and following her instruction of climbing into the bath. The bronze was cold under his skin and he shivered for just a moment, raising his eyes to look at her.

 

“I cared for him ever since he was a newborn babe,” she said. “His mother died in childbirth and his father had little time to parent him, so he was left in my care.”

 

“Am I to be his concubine?” Junhong asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. Hwayah looked to him with a kind eye, stepping aside as the servants returned with pitchers of water, carefully pouring it into the bronze tub. Junhong shivered as cool water was poured over his skin, but it was followed by a pitcher of warmth that had his muscles melting into a much missed relaxation. Hwayah carefully uncorked a vial of oil, pouring it into the steaming water, before grabbing a cloth and carefully beginning to wash over his skin. The servants took their leave and they were once again alone.

 

“The King has never taken a concubine before. Women and men have been brought to the palace as bounty, but he always returns them to their homes. He has never asked for one to remain in Huingol. I do not know what he intends for you,” she spoke truthfully as she washed his body, uncaring for his naked state.

 

“I am not worth much...” Junhong said, swallowing hard after he voiced the confession,

 

“Well, His Majesty appears to believe you are worth something,” she said. “Submurge your head, Junhong, so I may wash your hair.” It was relaxing to be bathed, his naked skin cleansed of the filth he had been forced to live in since being taken from his past master's home. When he emerged from the water, he smelled of deep earth and clean. Hwayah dressed him in a silken robe of deep blue that hung loose from his body. He was naked beneath, but as he was lead across the courtyard to the King's chambers, he figured that would matter little as he was sure he would be undressed soon anyway.

 

The door was carefully pushed open, and Junhong shuffled over the threshold. Every move he made was embellished with the soft whispers of his silken robes as they trailed over the floor and hung off his lean form. Yongguk stood facing a window, far less decorated than he had been in the throne room. He was in the midst of removing his jewellery when Junhong entered, and the door was closed behind him.

 

“Did you enjoy your bath?” He asked, his head turning.

 

Junhong carefully sunk to his knees and bowed low, “I enjoyed it very much, Your Majesty. Thank you,” his voice was steady and his body still.

 

“You don't need to prostrate on the floor.” Yongguk said, his lips twitching into the hint of a smile. “You may stand,” he watched as Junhong did as he was told immediately. Yongguk surveyed him now that he was clean. His skin was fair, and the stark black of his hair made it seem even fairer, though his cheeks were flushed with a soft pink from the heat of the bath. The robes he wore were too large, and one shoulder was slowly slipping to reveal naked skin beneath. He stepped closer and curled his fingers into the silk, gently tugging it up to cover the skin that was being revealed.

 

Junhong's eyes rose in surprise, his gaze lingering on Yongguk's gentle face. “Your Majesty” he said, bowing his head now that the man was so close to him. Yongguk shook his head, the hand releasing the silken robe to instead brush over Junhong's cheek.

 

“How long were you Kang's concubine?” the King asked. Junhong swallowed and dipped his head again,

 

“Three years, Your Majesty.” he admitted, as though ashamed. If the King had kept him here for the purpose of making him a concubine, he did not want to anger him. “I am sorry, Your Majesty.” Junhong said once again, dipping to his knees and pressing his palms flat against the floor, bowing as low as he could before the King as he admitted, “I have been penetrated. My body is not virgin.” What use or interest would he be to a king if he was just another man's seconds?

 

Yongguk released a soft sound of amusement, causing Junhong to freeze all but his eyes as they lifted to look up at the man, “You are not a virgin” the King said, tilting his head. “You say that like it disappoints me. I am not virgin either, does that disappoint you?” He asked, eyes shining.

 

Junhong stuttered for words, his eyes flitting to the sides with uncertainty, “Y-Your Majesty, I could never be disappointed, I did not mean to suggest that--”

 

“Relax, Junhong-ah.” Yongguk said with a warm chuckle, “You are safe with me.”

 

“W-why am I here?” Junhong asked, his voice meek. He knew he should not be questioning the King, but Yongguk just smiled.

 

“Sit with me, Junhong-ah,” he spoke, stepping into the courtyard. He took a seat on a stone bench by the running stream, Junhong carefully lowering himself down by his side. Yongguk turned his head and surveyed the boy before him. He couldn't be much older than eighteen, and he had already experienced a pain he did not deserve, “I would have returned you home if you had a home to return to.”

 

“You are kind, Your Majesty.” Junhong said, bowing his head low. Yongguk's lips curved upwards into a small crooked smile. He was noticing now how delicate Junhong's features were. The boy's nose was slim, his eyes perfect almonds and his lips soft and pouted. A silver stud decorated his right nostril, but other than that his face and body seemed bare of marks.

 

“A king should be kind, Junhong-ah.” he spoke, his gaze turning to look at the trickling stream before him. “My subjects would not love me, nor trust me if I was brutal or cruel. Some wish I had a harsher hand, but I want everyone in my kingdom to live well. Free of fear, violence or intimidation.” He turned his head slightly, eyes flickering to Junhong's slim, pale fingers as they curled into the deep blue of the robe he wore, “Villages should not be burnt, Junhong. That is why men like Lord Kang must be destroyed, and why men like General Kwon must be watched very closely.”

 

The boy simply nodded. His gaze traced the faint lines of the subtle pattern that decorated the exquisite silk covering his body, feeling at a loss for words. There was something safe about Yongguk's presence. He felt more comfortable sitting beside the most powerful man on the Joseon Peninsula than he ever had in Lord Kang's palace.

 

An echo of footsteps approached the rooms, and a voice came from behind them, “Your Highness.” Hwayah spoke, her voice warm, “The seamstresses are here for Junhong's measurements.”

 

The King rose from his seat and nodded his head, “Make him a full wardrobe, all of the finest silks. I want him dressed in blue, burgundy and grey for winter.” Yongguk had a decisive tone, a hand gently brushing feather-light over the back of Junhong's head, “Give him private quarters on the northern side of the wing. Make sure he is comfortable. And Hwayah, I will also be sending for artisans in the city to create a Gold band for his arm, so make sure measurements are taken for his bicep.”

 

Hwayah nodded her head, and the King left. Junhong was caught in a whirlwind of action. Four women he had not yet seen entered and tugged him away, leading him down the hall into yet another, equally as lavishly decorated room. The deep blue robe he clung to was pulled from his body, and he stood naked and exposed as these women wrapped string around his arms and legs, measuring the width and length of his limbs, surveying his height and minuscule stomach and untoned chest. Each woman jotted down notes and chatted between themselves,

 

“Make sure to measure his feet and ankles, he will need boots for when the snows come,” one said.

 

“He will look dashing in a charcoal grey coat over burgundy trousers,” added another.

 

“His slim physique will be shown best in the robes, though. They'll show off his height and the neck could be dipped low to expose those collarbones” the third chimed in, all as Hwayah watched in amusement from the door.

 

“You heard the King. Make him all the clothes he will need, but keep to the colours specified.” All four women echoed an affirmative as Junhong stood naked and flushed in the face. Of course many had seen him naked before, in Lord Kang's court he had never worn much. He was barely provided with much more than a simple loin cloth, sometimes just a sheer sheet of silk that left nothing to the imagination.

 

Members of that court had looked on him with lust as he had been paraded around, eyes lined with kohl, lips stained with fresh berries to make them red and plump. The Lord had little care for keeping his body private, regularly exposing him, revealing him, shaming him in front of others. It had never been an uncommon occurrence for Lord Kang to require Junhong's pleasures even when others were in the room and could watch as he did his duty as the greedy Lord's whore.

 

Yet still, he had always been kept jealously. Lord Kang would expose his body, and reveal his flesh but only to show what was _his._ If another man or woman would so much as look at Junhong with a lingering gaze, it would only end in pain and punishment. Though even as his master's prize, he had never been treated as though he had any kind of worth.

 

“When you have completed his clothing, I want fresh curtains made for his rooms. They have been unoccupied for far too long and they require some life.” Hwayah continued, knocking Junhong from his thoughts. He looked at the seamstresses as they withdrew their hands from his skin, instead moving to measure windows and bedframes, chattering between themselves.

 

“What are these rooms?” Junhong asked in a soft tone, almost too afraid to ask. His right leg bent, shifting as though to try and conceal himself with his thigh, not yet having been given permission to dress – and not daring to until he had instruction. He had scars along his spine, the memory of punishment for covering his body in his previous home.

 

Hwayah lifted the blue robe from where she had lay it out on the bed, carefully moving behind the shy boy to help him re-dress, “This is His Majesty's wing. This entire section of the Palace was built to serve the needs of the King. There are his private rooms, where he sleeps and washes. His courtyard, his studies, his libraries where he goes to have time away from bothersome Lords and tiring politics,” she said, moving around to carefully tie the robe closed. “There are also rooms built to house a wife and whatever concubines the King chooses to take. Though he has neither, so many rooms in this wing are empty. But not anymore, little one,” she said with an almost maternal smile. It had been years since Junhong had felt the warmth of a motherly comfort, and he was immediately attaching himself to Hwayah.

 

“Why would he give me these rooms though?” he asked, looking around with uncertainty.

 

“Because he has chosen for you to remain here, my boy” Hwayah said, reaching up and fixing his collar. She glanced at the seamstresses as they chattered and fussed, “You are dismissed. Leave us.” They did immediately as they were told, their voices disappearing quickly down the hall.

 

Junhong looked to the woman before him as she straightened the mattress of the simple bed. He wondered briefly what had happened to the women he was sure Yongguk's father must have kept in these rooms, but he reminded himself then of how the gentle King had demanded all women be returned to their homes.

 

“My Yongguk has been gentle since he was a child. He much preferred reading his books to fighting and learning sword play like his father wanted,” Hwayah smiled, shaking her head. “His mother died when he was an infant, and he never agreed with the way a king would usually live. What he needs, Junhong, is companionship.” She sighed,“I do not know the true reason why he desires for you to stay, but I am sure he has a reason for wanting you here, and for wanting you close.”

 

“Why did he say he would call on artisans to create jewellery for my arm?” He was filled with so many questions, his throat tight as he could not believe all that was happening.

 

“It is tradition, that a concubine or a slave must be marked. Some tattoo a band around the upper arm, some fasten metal so tight it cannot be removed. Yongguk has called for a band of gold for you, something beautiful.” Hwayah was fluffing a pillow in her hands and glancing to the boy she said,“whether you are his concubine or not, Junhong, that arm band will show you as property of the King. Anything, whether it be a Lord calling for a _private audience,_ or even something as simple as another in the palace bossing you around, or wishing to give you work, it will all need to go through him. By being _his,_ Junhong, you are the safest person in the palace.”

 

“I am not afraid of him,” Junhong confessed. “He doesn't make me feel fear.”

 

“But you must still speak to him with respect worthy of a King. I have known him since he was a babe. I was his wet nurse, feeding him from my breast while his father ruled the Kingdom,” she said, “but I still speak to him as my King, just as you should, too. No matter how much kindness he shows.” Her tone was warning, her gaze serious.

 

Junhong nodded his head, “I will be good to him, Madame,” he said.

 

She smiled warmly and cupped his cheek, “Now, let me get you fed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my brain child. I have been working on this story for the past two months, and I am so excited and anxious to finally share the first part online.   
> This story will be much longer than others I have written, and it could take me a long time to get through it in its entirety but I hope that those reading this will love it even half as much as I do. Images and inspirations can be found here throughout the duration of this story being published.
> 
> In brief explanation I would also like to explain that the name of the capital city, Huingol (흰골), is Korean for White Valley. This entire story is set in a Korea-like ancient Kingdom. I have taken many aspects of ancient and medieval Korea but of course have changed and altered facts to suit my story.
> 
> I want to thank my best friend in all the world for editing and going over and over this story with me and letting me talk her ear off with every idea.
> 
> Thank you for reading it xo


	2. Chapter 2

Days passed before Junhong saw Yongguk again. He had been easily overwhelmed with the sheer size of the city, and had not yet even made it out of the front gates. He had paused for a moment on the second day in Huingol to wonder if he was even allowed to leave the palace walls. 

The halls of the palace were lined with unfamiliar faces, all of whom looked upon him with curiosity. He wondered how often newcomers came to the Palace. He was watched as he walked down halls and slipped through rooms, as though he were an animal locked in a cage all for the viewing pleasure of those around him. The feeling of being so watched had him returning to his rooms less than an hour after setting out to explore.

The halls of the King's wing were silent as he stepped through them. Servants were few and far between, but the constant trickling of the streams in each courtyard flowed through the silence, giving life to the series of empty, private rooms. He wondered what was behind many of the closed doors, but this was a part of the Palace he did not want to interrupt. Yongguk had been kind to him, he would not invade the King's privacy in fear of destroying that kindness.

He stepped over the threshold of his bedchamber and saw a series of parcels laying upon his bed. Raven brows furrowed, and rosy lips parted as he stepped carefully alongside the bed. Never in all his years living with Lord Kang had he seen so many gifts laid out before him. Each was wrapped in brown paper, and sealed with string, and he approached them with tentative hands. A note lay upon the bed, written in a careful script but he did not understand the characters jotted upon the paper.

Footsteps approached down the hallway, and Junhong swallowed down his nerves to gently pull open the door, seeing a young man walking, a tray in his hands.

“U-uh excuse me.” Junhong said. He had not spoken much since arriving in the city, but with each word he realised his Southern accent was thick. It curved his words and twitched in his tone, rounding each syllable and taking the corners and edges from the Northern tongue.

“Yes, My Lord.” the man responded, bowing politely. Junhong looked down at the note in his hands, and carefully extended it out to the other,

“I..” he said, his cheeks flushing a soft red, “I can't read.”

The servant blinked to him in a snap moment of surprise, before he took the note, “Of course, My Lord.” he said, clearing his throat, “Junhong-ah,” the servant started, “I had my most skilled seamstresses create you these clothes from the finest of silks, if you require more clothing you may send for them at any time by simply asking Hwayah. The bracelet for your arm, I must ask you to never remove it. It must be worn beneath your clothing at all times. Finally, a gift. When you arrived in my palace, you had nothing. You spoke of playing the Gayageum, and this one is yours. Treasure her, for she will be your constant companion.” The servant cleared his throat, “It is not signed, My Lord, but the writing is that of His Majesty.”

Junhong nodded his head and carefully took the letter that was held to him, “Thank you for reading it to me.” He turned his head, surveying the parcels upon his bed.

He had learned the Gayageum as a child on one his grandmother told him had been in his family for many years. She had spent long evenings by his side, teaching him to pluck the strings, to cause every note to tremble and waver. His father had once told him that money would never be a concern of their family, as long as they could hear such music. That beautiful instrument had been burned in the fire that consumed his home, as had his father.

As the servant dismissed himself, Junhong returned to his bed. He unwrapped each Garment made for him. The fabric was soft, and the colours deep and vibrant, they were unlike anything he had ever seen before and they were created specifically for him. Next, he unwrapped the paper around the golden arm band, and he slipped it on, pushing it over his elbow until it settled around his bicep. The gold glinted in the light and shone against his fair skin and a voice in the back of his head prayed that his King would like the sight.

It was when he reached for the final parcel that his fingers trembled. They fumbled as he attempted to undo the simple string, then ripping the paper with far less care or efficiency to reveal a long, sleek box. As he removed the lid, his breath caught in his throat. The Gayageum was made of a single length of Paulownia wood, with detailing of ebony and gold. Each string was attached to the body with a pearl pin, and it lay on a silk bed within the box. Junhong could not believe something so beautiful was his.

In the following days, he had practiced for long hours, sometimes late into the evening. His fingers were red and sore at the tips but he had little regret as the music flowed through his very soul. Of course he had played music while in his former master's court, but no instrument had ever been like this.

It was morning on his fifth day in the Palace that Junhong chose to lay down his instrument, and search for food. Often times, he would remain in his chambers until one of the many servants who worked in the King's wing would remind him that he would need to eat. 

His slippered feet were quiet on the stone floors as he tentatively pulled open the door that lead into the vast kitchens, the sound of cluttering pots and the aroma of fresh food wafting out from under the door. He swallowed nervously and carefully pulled up the silk sleeve of his burgundy robe so he could pull open the door and carefully step inside.

The room was far less crowded than he had expected. Some servants were milling about, chatting amongst themselves as they pottered around doing their chores. His stomach grumbled as he smelled the incredible aroma of fresh meat, his eyes searching around.

“Do you mind?” came a somewhat irritated voice from across the room. His eyes lifted and he looked to see three young men by a table. One was perched atop the furniture, his legs hanging off as he watched the other two bicker, “I'm trying to work.” The irritated voice belonged to a fair young man. His hair was jet black, his features delicate and exhibiting a masculine beauty Junhong had not seen in the South. He was wearing a deep brown woollen robe with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, his lips turned down into a frown as he attempted to arrange the food on a silver platter.

“You're the one coming into my kitchen and stealing all the food without asking me.” The other replied, attempting to limit the takings of the other man. He was taller, his lips full and plump and his eyes soft almonds that crescented as he smiled, Junhong recognised him as the servant in the hallway, who had read him the King's letter. The third of the group was silent as he swung his legs and watched. His attire was more luxurious, the deep terracotta robe clearly made of silk, and his black hair tied from his face with a piece of leather thong that distinguished his position from that of the squabbling servants.

“Daehyun you know full well that I was sent here on instruction. My Master asked for this food.” the first spoke again, smacking a hand that reached to take the round pear that sat perched on the platter.

“Yes, I also know full well that your Master can't really come in and steal the contents of the King's kitchen!” Daehyun responded. Junhong was watching in confusion and astonishment, unsure what he was being witness to.

“Who are you?” a soft voice asked, causing Junhong to jump. The bickering pair forgot their spat and turned to look at the stranger in their midst as their third, silent companion voiced his curiosity. Daehyun quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head, recognising the boy but before he could open his mouth to speak, the boy perched on the table gave him a somewhat knowing smile, “You are Junhong, yes?” he asked, carefully slipping from where he sat and turning to face him, “Lord Kang's concubine.”

“I-I don't belong to Lord Kang anymore...” Junhong stammered, uncertain as to how this boy knew who he was. He bit down into his lower lip, glancing over the shorter man's shoulder to instead look to the others. 

“Of course you don't. You belong to the King.” the boy spoke, bowing his head in a polite greeting, “I am Jongup.”

“So you're the infamous Junhong, hm?” the pretty-faced food thief asked, subtly using his friend's distraction to slip a second pear onto the platter before him, “General Kwon has been speaking of you a lot. I am Youngjae, this is Daehyun.”

“I can introduce myself.” Daehyun said, elbowing his friend in the side, though his gaze remained on the boy before him. Junhong was thankful Daehyun did not bring up that they had met before.

“Infamous?” he asked, uncertain as to whether he liked the sound of that.

“Oh yes, definitely infamous.” Youngjae began, Daehyun swiftly taking over,

“There has been a lot of chatter in the Palace about you. The concubine from the South.” He nodded his head. Youngjae hummed in agreement, but Jongup shook his head.

“There are always rumours in the Palace. Especially between bored manservants, and nosy cooks.” he didn't look away from Junhong as he spoke, his lips curving into a smile. “I have heard nice things. Do not care for the nonsense these two speak.” Junhong swallowed and nodded his head, his fingers twisting nervously into the sleeves of his robe. 

“I didn't know people were talking about me...” He admitted, glancing at the two behind Jongup, before dropping his gaze. Jongup wore black silk slippers, and Junhong wondered just who this boy was. The door once again opened and Hwayah peeked in, her eyebrows arching in surprise as she saw Junhong,

“Jongup-ah, I knew you would be here.” she said, “Are Daehyun and Youngjae causing you trouble again?” 

“I enjoy the entertainment, Madame.” Jongup responded, his focus turning to the kind woman.

“You and Junhong have been summoned to the Lotus Courtyard.” She said, smiling warmly at Junhong, before glancing behind him at the two servants who had begun once again to bicker, “Junhong-ah, I hope Jongup here explains to you who it is best to avoid friendship with. Some of the servants are nothing but a hassle.” She sighed, sending the two a warning look, before disappearing behind the door again.

“Follow me, Junhong-ssi.” Jongup said, beginning to lead the younger through the kitchens. Cooks and servants were moving through the extended rooms, not paying either silk-clad young man a second glance as they focused on the work before them. A large, heavy door at the very end of the rooms was pushed open by the smaller man, leading them in the direction of the furthest end of the King's private wing. The two remained silent, the sound of their slippers meeting the stone floor the only thing accompanying them on their way.

The first thing Junhong heard, was the sound of trickling water. He knew enough about the layout of the wing to know this was not the courtyard he had seen on his first day in the Palace and he was glad Jongup was by his side because without the other, he was certain he would get lost.

“I'm surprised with you, Yongguk.” an unfamiliar voice sounded, “I didn't expect you to make these choices.” Junhong frowned at the familiarity of the words.

“I would be lying if I said I was surprised by you. I know you better than you think.” Yongguk's tone had a warmth Junhong had not heard before. “How is your wife?” he enquired, his question being met with a snort.

“She's fucking my maid.” the other man responded, chuckling to himself, “Not that I have issues with that. We all have our vices.”

“And fucking your own servant is a vice?” Yongguk's voice was filled with amusement, “You speak of it as though it is a bad thing.”

“I would never claim it as a bad thing. I couldn't be any more satisfied and content than what I am with him. Though anyway, name a Lord who hasn't fucked their man servant. I'm sure you would struggle to name a single one,” the stranger said.

“I am very glad you and your wife are so comfortable in your arrangement.” The King spoke, the sound of his robes whispering in movement as he stood.

“Our relationship is definitely mutually beneficial and we are both content. Her father, on the other hand... When the King, may he rest in peace, promised Lord Jung that her hand would be given to his son, an illegitimate bastard was not anticipated.” Junhong's lips parted and he glanced at Jongup, the man's expression remaining stoic. “Though we can all agree she makes a far better wife to me than she would make a Queen. The young woman I hired to tend to the kitchen is providing her with what she needs, while I have someone of my own to fulfil mine.”

“Because of course, fulfilling your needs is all he does.” Yongguk said with a knowing tone. The young pair rounded the corner and stepped into the courtyard finally. Yongguk was standing by a wide pond, beneath a drooping willow tree. His robes were a deep purple, and his features soft. Another man reclined back on a chair beside the water, his skin fair as he rose a carved, wooden cup to his lips. His hair was long and tied into a bun at the back of his head, his features masculine and strong. His robes were black, trimmed with a rich crimson, and a black leather belt was wrapped tightly around his midsection. From beneath the wrapped robe came black pants, tucked into leather boots that crunched on the small stones that lay upon the ground. It was obvious from first sight that he was a military man. 

As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, Jongup dropped to his knees and pressed both palms flat against the stone. Junhong followed a heartbeat later, attempting to follow the other's lead, unsure of how to behave.

“You don't need to bow, Jongup-ah. You are in friendly company.” The King spoke, his head turning to watch the pair on the floor. Jongup rose his head and carefully stood, moving immediately to seat himself beside the stranger. Junhong noticed then the sheathed sword that leant against the seat. “Junhong-ah, this is my most trusted member of the court, and my dearest friend.” The King said, extending a hand to the bowing boy. He stood and carefully crossed the courtyard, standing beside the King. He had not seen Yongguk since the day they had met and he was unsure what was required from him. “My bastard half-brother, Kim Himchan.”

“So you are the Junhong I keep hearing about.” Himchan's arm curved around Jongup's smaller form, bringing the younger closer into his side. Junhong swallowed, unsure what such a statement insinuated. “One of my Generals is kicking up quite the stink over you.”

“General Kwon's self-serving complaints are not a concern of Junhong's.” Yongguk said, sending Himchan a look. The military-man chuckled and shook his head,

“It is true that your young Junhong seems to have had an affect on Kwon. He keeps bringing up his brave liberation of Lord Kang's compound.” Himchan rolled his eyes and straightened his posture, his feet pressing flat to the stoney ground, “He likes to think of himself as a great rescuer. Doesn't seem to even remember what his own intentions were with the people he rescued.” His eyes met with Yongguk's, before he glanced to Junhong. 

The King simply turned his head to instead face Jongup as the boy remained silently by Himchan's side, “Jongup-ah, I wanted for you to meet Junhong,” he said, ending Himchan's line of thought.

“We met earlier today, Yongguk-hyung.” Jongup spoke with a familiarity that set Junhong on edge, his lips parting in surprise at how informal the boy's tone was, “He is very shy. It's quite cute.” Junhong's cheeks flushed at the words, not expecting to hear such things, his gaze dropping then to the ground. 

Yongguk chuckled and nodded his head, “He is from the South, he does not have a home for me to return him to, so he shall remain here.” Yongguk spoke, not even looking to the boy he spoke of, “I want a familiar face in the palace for him. Someone who I know is kind, and who will not be altered or impressed by kitchen gossip. Will you look out for him?”

“Of course I will, Yongguk-hyung. Junhongie and I can be friends.” Jongup nodded his head and straightened himself up, pulling slightly away from Himchan. Yongguk's smile was gentle, his hand extending to brush over the side of Jongup's head, before he leant down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you.” Himchan quirked an eyebrow,

“Careful, your Majesty. You know I won't hesitate in punching you if you try to seduce what is mine.” He said, his own hand smoothing down Jongup's spine.

“And, General, you know I can have you killed for threatening me.” Yongguk's response was light and Himchan laughed.

“Sibling banter, I'm glad we never grew out of it.” It was then that a fifth person appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in a deep brown robe, and bowed low to all who stood in the courtyard,

“Your Majesty, General Kim, the officials and Lords you have summoned are awaiting your presence.” He said. Himchan hummed and pushed himself carefully to stand, his fingers lowering to stroke through Jongup's soft hair. 

Yongguk nodded his head, “We shall arrive shortly.” he stated, before turning back to the younger two, “Show him the Palace, Jongup-ah. Anything you deem worthy or interesting.” 

Jongup stood, and nodded his head, bowing, “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said. Junhong noticed the change in demeanour of the two as soon as an outside person was witness to them. Himchan lifted his sword from the ground and fastened the sheath back to his belt, 

“I will send for you when I am finished, Jongup-ah.” Himchan spoke, “There are things I would like to discuss.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Jongup stood from his seat and bowed low. Junhong followed the movement, his teeth worrying at his lip as the King and his half-brother left them alone in the silence of the courtyard. 

Once they were alone, Junhong wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say. He glanced at the elder (and shorter) man and hesitated before blurting, “I didn't know His Majesty has a brother.”

“He does.” Jongup smiled, “General Kim is in charge of the Army. The King trusts him very much, they have been very close their whole lives.” As he spoke, he gestured towards the door, beginning to lead Junhong back into the hall. He followed, his feet shuffling against the floor as he asked,

“It is hard to tell.. Who is older?” He wondered if such a thing was impolite, or even treason to ask. Would that somehow be insulting their King?

“The King is older. He was born twenty days before General Kim, but they grew up in the Palace alongside each other, almost as though they were twins.” Jongup said with a nod. Junhong cocked his head,

“Why?” he asked, “Was the Queen not... Jealous?” 

“No. Her majesty died when she was in childbirth with His Majesty. General Kim's mother had been one of the King's concubines... but as she had been pregnant and General Kim had been born so soon after the King's legitimate son had been, she was his wet nurse. She raised them both together.” Jongup explained, his voice soft, “She breast fed them both, and she cared for them very dearly. Since their father wanted them both to be equally educated, they received their education together.”

“Wait..” Junhong frowned, “General Kim's mother fed His Majesty from her breast?” he asked, looking to Jongup who smiled.

“Kim Hwayah, yes. She is General Kim's mother.” Jongup elaborated, seeing the look of understanding that dawned on Junhong's face. “Now, the new King has placed her in charge of his private household.”

“She... didn't mention to me that she had been a concubine.” Junhong said. They were in a part of the palace he had never ventured to before, with wide halls and shuttered windows. More people were milling about, and some turned to look upon them curiously as they passed.

“It has been many years since she was, Junhong-ah. For twenty-five years she has been the mother of the King's son,” Jongup reminded him. Junhong tilted his head, glancing at the lingering gazes of the men and women around them.

“And you, Jongup-ssi?” He asked, voice soft, “What are you?”

“I am the assistant to General Kim.” he said, glancing sidelong at those around them, “I do as he wills me to. I live with him, and his wife in our modest quarters.” He turned and looked at Junhong, his eyes showing that it was not the complete truth. He nodded in understanding, they were far too public for such speak.

The end of the hallway opened into wide-double doors that were guarded with two strongly suited soldiers. Both held spears in their right hands, shields on the other and held formidable expressions on their guarded faces, “We are in the public wing.” Jongup began, “This part of the Palace is open to everyone. Politicians come through here, as do soldiers and generals. Peasants and Lords alike may enter if they wish to have audience with officials and magistrates regarding anything they wish. Sometimes His Majesty will host events or public audiences in some of the larger rooms through this section.” 

Stepping through the doors and into the open, Junhong was reminded for the first time since arriving in Huingol that this was the capital city. People bustled all around them. Fat Lords crossed the square, arguing with one another over land and taxes, peasants carried wares they wanted to sell or gift to their beloved King. The spark of life surrounded him, and it was incredible, “It's huge..” Junhong murmured, barely dodging a magistrate who ran in his orange uniform robes across the square to make a deadline. It was all making his head hurt.

“It is.” Jongup smiled, leading the younger man towards another building, “This is our temple. It is one of hundreds throughout the city, and the many in the Palace, but this one is magnificent, it has the paintings.”

“Paintings?” Junhong asked, scrambling to follow his new friend, and much-needed guide. The temple was round and tall. The walls of gold and crimson roof matched those of the Palace complex that still surrounded them, but the door of this room was wide and jet black. Shapes were carved into the hard wood, creating words that were lost on Junhong's uneducated eyes. Jongup pushed open the door, and Junhong followed him inside, allowing them to be sucked into the darkness of the room.

He was surprised to find the temple empty, while the square outside had been so overwhelmed with bodies rushing through their lives. Each footstep echoed on the stone floors as he looked around at the dark smears that marked the walls leading up to the simple alter created and decorated for their Gods. He did not understand what it was about this temple that made it so magnificent as Jongup had put it, but that was when he saw them.

Shapes, figures painted carefully onto the walls around them. He saw mountains, trees, buildings. Soldiers fought wars, women carried children, and horses ran wild through the streets.

“What is it?” Junhong asked, his fingers tracing the incredible detail of a tree, no bigger than his thumbnail.

“It is the story of Huingol, look.” Jongup smiled and tugged on his wrist, bringing him across the room to stand by the door. All there was were trees. Hundreds, maybe thousands of trees painted on the wall, each different. Jongup's fingers brushed over a clearing in the ink forest, a man standing hunched, “This is Sekwan, he was the King of an ancient people. He was wounded in a battle in the mountains, and he came down into the Valley to find refuge and to heal his wounds.” Junhong noticed the ink smeared beneath his feet, blood. “He was going to die. If he managed to survive his wounds, he would be killed when trying to leave the Valley in search of his armies.” Jongup explained, his hand sliding over the plaster, through the trees to another clearing. “He slept in a clearing, nursing his wounds and praying to the Gods that they would heal, and the war would not be lost.”

Junhong's eyes found the form of a horse, painted in a white that stood out against the black trees. Its front leg was extended forward, while wide wings spread from its back. The figure of Sekwan was bowed before this majestic creature, “It was as he rested in the clearing that a bone white Chollima found him on the verge of death. She bowed her head and touched her nose to his wounds, which healed them immediately, but when her snout came into contact with his blood, her white coat became crimson red.” Jongup described while Junhong followed each word through the painting. He watched as the small figure of the beautiful Chollima became deep, blood red. “Sekwan named her Noeul as her body was the colour of the sunset, and he climbed upon her back. She took him to the battle,” Jongup carefully lead Junhong to where the painting portrayed the sharp side of the mountain, and where soldiers battled one another against the cliff edges, “The enemy army were filled with fear at the miracle that Sekwan lived. They all believed that he had died, but he instead returned on the back of the beautiful crimson Chollima, Noeul.”

Small paint strokes came together to show the soldiers fleeing back through the mountain pass, while Sekwan's army rejoiced at their victories, standing between the bodies of their slaughtered enemies. “The Generals asked King Sekwan how he had survived, and so he brought his army back down through the Valley to the clearing where he had lay to die. When he returned to his clearing, the blood-soaked ground exactly where he had been, white flowers had begun to bloom. He dropped to his knees, and he thanked the Gods for sending Noeul to save him, as it was clear he was the King they had chosen to save his people and bring them into the Valley.” Jongup explained, “He promised the Gods that he would build a great and powerful Kingdom on that very spot, and name it Huingol.”

“White Valley...” Junhong said, taking a step beyond where Jongup stood. The elder watched the boy from the South as he looked over the shapes on the plaster, nodding his own head.

“White Valley.” he replied. Junhong frowned and turned back to Jongup,

“What happened to Noeul?” he asked, searching for her crimson form on the plaster.

“Noeul could no longer return to Heaven. She was no longer white and pure, but had instead sacrificed herself to save King Sekwan. That was why she turned red when she touched his blood. She transferred her immortality to save him.” Jongup explained, “Her wings slowly began to fade, and she became a mortal horse and was forgotten. It is said that one day after her wings had disappeared, she returned into the forest, and was never seen again. Some say, though, that her spirit returns to the body of whichever horse the King of Huingol takes as his own, because Noeul will always wish to protect him.”

Junhong traced her shape, “It's sad...” he said, gazing over the painting as it portrayed her disappearing back into the forest from where she came. “She saved his life, she gave up her immortality for him, and he forgot her.” 

“He did not forget her.” Jongup said, “Ever since then, Huingol has been a city of horse people. Our city, our kingdom revolves around the divinity of horses.” he frowned, “We will never forget what her kind did for us, and what they gave us. In Huingol we learn to ride a horse at the same time as we learn to walk, or read and write.” Jongup smiled, stepping back. They had only gone over the very start of the painting, and he knew there was so much more to go, “Have you ridden a lot, Junhongie-ah?”

“I...” Junhong swallowed, “I have never ridden a horse. I had never even seen a real one until Lord Kang came to my village when I was sixteen.” he admitted it with a frown, his eyes returning to the Chollima on the wall.

“Then I know where to take you next.” Jongup's smile was bright like the sun and Junhong could see why Himchan was so in love. A hand slipped into his and he was pulled from the temple back out onto the square. Jongup tugged him back in the direction of where they had originated, but instead of bringing him back into the Palace, they passed it to instead move down alongside it, where a large, wooden building stood surrounded by Paulownia trees. The people that lingered around here were different to who had been in the square. Strong men dressed in leather and hessian hauled hay-bales off carts, while servants carried buckets of seed and water through the buildings. The image of a Chollima was carved above the door and the smell of grass and sweat hung heavy in the air. 

“Is that her?” Junhong asked, pointing to the carving.

“That is Noeul.” Jongup smiled, tugging Junhong through the open doors and into the stables. He was amazed at the sheer size of the structure. There must have been over a hundred horses housed and cared for in the single building, each of them needing to be fed and brushed and cared for uniquely, “Each one of these horses is cared for like they were princes or princesses. They are more valuable to us than any gold could be, they are all protected by the holy spirit of Noeul.” Junhong noticed the small alter just inside the door where incense burned and small gifts of bread and fruit were laid out in a small basket. Jongup noticed him staring, “They are gifts for her, some of the stable boys here pray to her instead of our Gods.”

“Jongup-ssi.” a voice came from behind them. Junhong turned as Jongup did, seeing a tall cleric standing before them, watching as he bowed, “General Kim has called for you.” Jongup smiled and bowed his head,

“Thank you.” he spoke, before turning to Junhong, “I must leave. Would you like me to take you back to your rooms?” 

“No.” Junhong immediately said, his cheeks flushing as he turned his head and looked around himself, “I... I want to look around here first.” 

Jongup nodded and smiled, “Okay.. I hope to see you again soon, Junhongie-ah. I am glad we're friends.” 

“I am too, and thank you, Jongup-ssi.” Junhong spoke, a flush creeping on his cheeks.

“When we meet again, please call me Hyung.” Jongup smiled brightly, before hurrying off after the cleric and leaving Junhong alone between the bustling strangers doing their work. He took a step forward and looked around, his eyes sliding over the majestic forms of the beautiful animals surrounding him. Their bodies were strong and their coats shone with sweat in the sunlight that filtered in through the windows that lined the stable walls. 

As a child, he had been told stories of warriors riding on the backs of strong stallions, or myths of Chollima bewitching mortals with their beauty, but he had never understood until he had seen the animals with his own eyes. Now he could see their long eyelashes, their wet noses. He could see the way their hooves sunk into the hay beneath their feet, or how their ears twitched and tails swished to swat away persistent flies that buzzed around them.

“Coming through,” a man grunted, and he jumped out of the way of a cart that pushed through behind him. It was then that he noticed her. 

At the end of the stable there was a stall and in it stood a jet black mare. Her withers stood almost two metres from the ground and her coat shone as though it were made from fine silk. A single white stripe down her face stood out against the black of her coat, and her mane fell down alongside her elegant throat. Junhong thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His hands curved around the fence that stood between them, watching as her nose nuzzled into the hay that lay around her hooves.

“Hello...” he murmured to her with a soft voice. He startled as her head lifted, her wide eyes finding him, “You're beautiful.” he admitted. She snorted and flicked her ears, her head turning to survey him. Carefully, he lifted a hand and held it out to her, feeling a thrill as she curiously came forward to inspect him. The story he had been told hung heavy in his mind as he carefully smoothed a hand along her snout, “A Chollima must be blinding if they are more beautiful than you.” The horse moved her head to nuzzle into him, releasing an equine groan as he moved his arms around her neck.

“Her name is Yeona.” came a familiar voice from behind him. Junhong turned his head, his face flushing once again as he turned to look upon Yongguk's form.

“Your Majesty!” he said in surprise, before pulling from the horse and bowing low. Yongguk smiled, stepping closer and sliding his hand over Yeona's nose.

“She is beautiful, isn't she?” he asked, Junhong straightening and nodding his head as he attempted to swallow his own nerves.

“Y-your Majesty I don't think I've ever seen an animal this beautiful before.” he admitted. His fingers curled nervously into the silk of his robe, watching as the King unhooked the gate into the stall and stepped in beside the beast. 

He gestured for Junhong to follow, “A stable hand once told me he believed she must be descended from Noeul.” Yongguk stated, his arm curving around her neck, “Her mother wondered pregnant from the forest when I was fifteen years old. She was brought to these stables to birth, and my beautiful Yeona was born on my birthday. The stable hand told me that such a beautiful foal was a gift from the Gods themselves, intended for me.”

“Do you believe that, Your Majesty?” Junhong asked quietly, biting into his lower lip. 

“It does not matter if I believe it or not. I am the only one she allows to mount her, and she is faithful to me.” Yongguk smiled, “She is the most stubborn creature in these stables, usually she ignores anyone who tries to speak to her. She seems to like you, however.”

Junhong blinked in surprise, glancing to the beautiful creature as she turned her head and nudged him ever so gently. He tried to suppress a smile, and turned his head as she came forward to bestow her affection upon him. He didn't see how the King smiled.

“Bring me her saddle and bridle.” Yongguk spoke to a passing stable hand, “And saddle another of the crown's horses.”

“Right away, Your Majesty.” the man bowed and scuttled away, Junhong blinking in confusion. A hand rose and brushed over the side of Yeona's neck, eliciting a snort from the creature.

“Are you going somewhere, Your Majesty?” Junhong asked with uncertainty as a cloth and leather saddle was placed on the gate of the stall. Yongguk lifted the saddle into his arms and heaved it over Yeona's back, the animal staying still as her master fastened it around her girth.

“Have you ever ridden a horse, Junhong-ah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more quick translations:  
> A Chollima (천리마) is a Korean mythical creature, kind of like a Pegasus. They're white horses with wings. The name Noeul (노을) is Korean for sunset. I chose this term due to the colour of the horse. The name Sekwan (세관) is a name that I made up and has no meaning that I am aware of. Lastly, Yeona (연아) is a Korean name that means beauty and elegance.
> 
>  
> 
> As always I want to thank my beautiful best friend for all the love, help and support she gives me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed chapter two, thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Junhong found the sight odd, a silk robed King saddling a horse as though he himself were nothing more than a muck-shovelling stable boy. Yet he could see in the eyes of the animal who stood between them, that she would not allow another to touch her in such a way. 

“I have never ridden a horse, Your Majesty,” he murmured. Yongguk's full lips curved into a smile and he gently guided a bit into Yeona's mouth and fastened her bridle to her head. The leather was decorated with gold plates and red tassels that stood out against her slick black coat in the minimal light. The stable hand returned with a chestnut coloured horse, already saddled and prepared to leave,

“Help my companion to mount Yeona.” Yongguk said, opening the gate and climbing easily onto the chestnut stallion's back, shifting in his saddle to seat himself comfortably. Junhong's lips parted in shock as the man approached, leaving no time to refuse before he was guiding Junhong through the movements and mounting him atop the raven mare. Once he was seated, she did not hesitate before moving and the stable hand had to jump out of the way as she walked through the gate to make lazily towards the rear door. Yongguk urged his own animal forward, following towards the gate, “We won't go any faster than walking.” He assured the frightened rider beside him.

Junhong's whole body was tense. His thighs were tight around Yeona, trying to cling on to her as his hands gripped her bridle. He looked down towards his feet and realised just how high off the ground he was, causing his stomach to lurch and his eyes to close all together. The animal beneath him remained calm, her movements steady as she carried him through the open gates of the city, and out into the lush greenery of the forest that surrounded them.

It was so much quieter outside the gates. The hustle and bustle of the city was gone, making way for the soft call of birds and the wind rustling through the treetops. Of course Junhong had been told many times of Huingol's beauty but in the south there were no cities even close to rivalling that of the capital. Such a scale had been unimaginable to him until he had seen it with his own eyes. He turned his head and gazed up into the mountains, the jagged peaks cutting into the sky before cascading downwards into the auburn and red autumn leaves.

“Where did Jongup take you?” the King asked, his eyes focused ahead of them as he turned his horse off the road and between the trees. A small track was worn into the ground from use, and Junhong was curious to where he was being taken.

“He showed me the public wing, your Majesty. We went into the temple and he explained the story of Sekwan and Noeul.” he said, “He then brought me into the stable to see the horses.”

“And he showed you to Yeona?” Yongguk turned his head to glance at his beloved mare.

“No... He was called away by his Master. I found her on my own, it felt almost as though she was calling to me.” Junhong smiled as he brushed a hand down through her mane, hearing a whiney of pleasure roll forth.

“She is aware of how beautiful she is.” Yongguk responded, leaning down as his horse moved beneath a low-hanging branch.

“Is it true that her parents were wild?” Junhong asked, looking down at such a tame animal below his body. 

“Many groups of wild horses roam through the valley and into the mountains, they have for hundreds of years. Yeona behaves like a wild animal when she is not with someone who holds her trust.” He steered into a clearing and brought his horse to a stop, giving the beast a firm pat, “Thank you, Byeongsu.” He easily dismounted, his feet landing on the grass beneath him. Junhong shifted and slipped a foot from the stirrup it was easily seated in, before he swung his leg over and slid gracelessly onto the grass. He stumbled, his cheeks flushing red as he caught himself against a tree. The sound of Yongguk's chuckle was like warm sunlight, and as his lips spread wide, it bared the rows of white teeth and pink gums, “Are you alright?”

“I-I'm okay, your Majesty.” Junhong said, face burning. 

“When we are alone you don't need to call me that.” Yongguk spoke, releasing his horse, and allowing the stallion to drink in the stream that flowed alongside the clearing, “In the Palace, I am the King, but when we are in private I am simply Yongguk.”

“As you wish Your-- Yongguk-ssi.” he quickly amended.

“Call me Hyung.” he finally instructed, and Junhong bowed his head. Something warm spread through his chest, and he did not want to think too long about what it was.

“Yongguk-hyung... It's beautiful here.” Junhong spoke, watching as Yeona left his side to drink from the clear flowing stream. White, red and violet flowers bloomed in the grass and trees lined the clearing, their branches bowing low to provide a refuge and privacy.

“I come here often with Yeona. It is a quiet place to think, away from the palace.” Yongguk smiled, carefully seating himself on the grass below a bowing willow that still clung to some remaining leaves. “Even though my wing of the palace is private and mostly empty, it is much better to come here where no one can find me.”

“What do you think about?” Junhong carefully lowered himself to sit beside Yongguk, his legs stretching out as his back leant against the hard trunk of the old tree.

“I think about many things.” Yongguk chuckled, glancing to the younger boy, “I think about my Kingdom, my palace, my people. My idiot brother whom I love very much, and my intelligent sister who will always be my biggest bother.”

“Your sister?” Junhong frowned. Of course he had known of their King, but he knew little about the rest of the royal family. No one had mentioned her since he had been in the Palace. 

Yongguk nodded his head, “My elder sister, Yejin.” he explained, “She was born to my mother and father four years before Himchan and I.”

“Does she also live in the palace?” Junhong asked, tilting his head. 

“No, she lives with her husband north of the mountains. Before my father's death, he had kept her unmarried. He had wanted for her to be a useful tool for me as a new King to build relationships through my Kingdom. He had wanted for me to find her a husband who I could build a strong political relationship with by bringing them into our family.” he spoke, before he closed his eyes and released a sigh, “But of course... two days after our father's death she came to me begging to relinquish her from the responsibility. She told me she was in love with a Lord from the court. He was someone we already had a very close relationship with and marrying her to him would give us no advantage but...” Yongguk trailed off and turned his head. His eyes were almost black as they looked into Junhong's, his lips turned down into a frown and his fingers tapped rhythms against his knee.

“They married, didn't they?” Junhong asked. He knew nothing of politics or royalty, but he could tell that Yongguk loved his sister.

“Of course they did. I gave them my blessing, and had them marry days later. A child was born within a year of their marriage.” His lips quirked this time, “Himchan was married before I was crowned, so he is of no use to me either.” Something was weighing upon the King's mind, and Junhong's fingers twitched, before they shifted and gently brushed over the digits drumming their silent beat against the silk of his pants.

“Can... you marry off anyone else?” he tried, uncertain about what would be helpful to the King. Yongguk just smiled, his head tilting and his own fingers moving to gently trace over the knuckles of Junhong's own slim digits. The pad of an index finger brushed against a callous, before tracing lines of his palm.

“The only person I have left to marry off is myself, Junhong-ah, and I have no interest in that.” There was a warmth in his voice, a kindness. He did not condescend in his speech as he spoke to his much younger companion, even though he was aware of how little the boy understood of palace politics.

“But... Don't you need an heir, Yongguk-hyung?” That was the one important thing he knew.

“Yejin had a son, Yongnam, and I wish for him to be King once I am gone. I wish to rule the peninsula without distraction, my focus should be on my people – not on the necessity of fathering children. With my nephew as my heir, the crown will go to family, but it will not be the result of a blood bath of Lords wishing to force their daughters upon me.” Yongguk explained with a smile. Junhong watched as the King turned his head, his whole body showed such strength and demanded respect, but here, alone, Yongguk was different. He was gentle and he was kind. He had a softness and warmth that Junhong knew not many must bare witness to.

His tongue wet his lips as they succumbed to the silence, bathed in autumn light. Yongguk's palm was soft and warm as it pressed gently to his cheek, and the tenderness brought a calm running through him. Silk whispered as bodies shifted, and Yongguk leant forward to seal their lips in a waiting kiss. 

Yongguk tasted like the ocean. He tasted of majesty and salt, of history and power. He tasted familiar, but new and Junhong felt as though something he had been missing was finally clicking into place.

Their lips moulded together with a natural ease and their hearts beat in unison as the cool breeze rustled over the grass and brought goose bumps to whatever skin was bared to it. Yongguk's hand cupped his cheek with a fondness and tenderness that had Junhong arching gracefully into him, meeting every press of lips and tongue with one of his own. Part of him knew he should be eager to please but as the morning light blossomed into early afternoon, he realised that he did not need to try, he did not need to pretend. 

A rustling between autumn leaves broke them apart and the King turned his head while using his left hand to guide Junhong down to his shoulder. A soldier emerged from the edge of the trees, bowing low.

“Your Majesty.” he greeted, pretending as though he saw nothing, “You asked me to send for you when your sister arrived.” Junhong's eyes fluttered, and his fingers curled into the soft garments his King wore, feeling the warmth of his protective hold while another disturbed their sanctuary.

“Thank you. We shall return.” Yongguk dismissed the soldier who hesitated beneath a pine, before bowing and disappearing into the trees. Junhong swallowed and lifted his head as Yongguk withdrew from his side and stood to prepare for their return through the gates of Huingol.

*

Morning stretched into afternoon and the sun arched through the sky. When he had returned with Yongguk into the city walls, they had parted ways in the stable. The King had been in a hurry to meet with his sister, while Junhong excused himself and instead chose to spend the hour brushing Yeona's sweaty coat. He spoke to her in his little-used dialect, telling her of his home across the land and of the ocean that haunted his dreams until a stable boy approached to take her to be watered.

The wing was almost silent as Junhong walked down the halls. The front of the palace had been bustling with activity, but once he had approached the private rooms of their King, the crowds had fallen away and he was left in silence. Every second room he would see a servant or a cleric, all of whom would bow and continue in their silent tasks. 

It was when he approached one of the three courtyards in the wing that he heard voices. He was passing by the libraries and studies, where Yongguk would on occasion take private appointments with politicians or Lords to discuss some of the more private matters of the Kingdom. He had never himself been inside the rooms, but he had taken a peak at the courtyard once on a venture towards the kitchens. 

It was the largest of the three, large enough he assumed for the King to meet outdoors for formalities and private gatherings. Much alike the smaller courtyards, a pond sat in the centre and by its side was a large tree, a kind Junhong had never seen before. The branches were bare of leaves, and the strong wood was grey.

“Naming him as your heir is dangerous.” came a woman's voice. Junhong stilled and sucked in a slow breath and he allowed himself to peek. A tall woman stood in the centre of the courtyard, a young child standing at her feet. He looked as though he could barely walk, and his fists were curled tightly into the hem of her rose Hanbok, “You can't name him as your heir. What if in ten years you have a child of your own? You'll be stuck with an heir nephew, and your own child will be stripped of their birthright.”

“If I have an heir, the push for me to marry will diminish.” Yongguk's voice came but Junhong couldn't see him.

“Nonsense, Yongguk. Every Lord from here to China will be pushing their daughters at you. They'll push their sons at you, too, if they think they would have more chance. Whether you have an heir or not, as long as you are unmarried you will be targeted. That is not even taking into account the promises our father made to certain people before his death.” Yejin's tone was firm. She was speaking to him in a way he wasn't sure even Himchan would dare.

“Our Father made a lot of promises to a lot of people,” the King said back, his tone unpleased, “I will not marry, Yejin.”

“Of course you won't. You're stubborn and idealistic. You have made your choice, and you will stick to it, but they won't know that, Yongguk. They will continue to push until you choose.” Yejin sighed. The baby at her feet began to fuss and she bent over, carefully bringing him into her arms where he settled, “Yongnam will be King, my little brother. I just ask for you please not to announce it.”

“I would never do anything that would place him in danger.” Yongguk responded. He stepped closer, into view. He rose a hand to brush it gently over the back of the child's hair, before leaning into kiss his sister's forehead.

“I know you wish you had been more diplomatic with my marriage.” Yejin smiled, glancing to her son. 

“Are you happy?” Yongguk asked, to which his elder sister replied,

“I have been happy every day since you gave us your blessing.” 

“I could not wish for anything else, Noona.” the King smiled, brushing his palm over her cheek, “Himchan has been eager to see you. He has missed you as much as I did.”

“My husband went in search of him when we arrived. It is about time we joined them.” the Lady responded, her son settling his head to her shoulder. She took a step towards the library and turned her head, “Yongguk... Thank you.” 

“I did what I deemed right.” The King's smile was gentle and Junhong did not think he could watch such a private moment. He carefully moved once again down the corridor and across the Lotus Courtyard into his own rooms. He swallowed, feeling a guilt pool in his stomach at the knowledge he had spied on his King at such a personal time. 

Quietly, he undid the shirt he wore and slipped it and his pants from his body and lay them upon his bed. They were filthy from the stables, the hems caked in mud and dirt from the barn floors. Instead of choosing another garment of pants and a shirt, he chose a simple robe of rich burgundy and pulled it over his naked skin, tying a sash around his middle to keep the garment closed. He lowered himself to sit on his bed, and brought his Gayageum once again over his lap. 

Music filled his room slowly as he brushed his fingers along the body of the instrument while his mind slowly wondered. It was clear that there were expectations and duties rising for the King that he did not quite understand, and he wondered just what would come of the marriage concerns. Yongguk was as young as he was handsome, and clearly he was a valued suitor for anyone of worth.

Kings and Queens of China or Japan would want to marry their daughters to the handsome young King of the Joseon peninsula, and yet Yongguk had little interest in taking a wife. Junhong ran his index finger down the length of a string, humming to himself as the sound resonated through his room and he settled himself back into the warm content of his music.

*

When Junhong awoke he was naked and beneath the blankets. The robe he had worn earlier in the day was folded and set aside, and the room was empty, though movement sounded from the adjoining chamber. He carefully pushed himself to sit, his whole body feeling warm as he stretched his arms above his head and emitted a soft groan of pleasure.

“Ah, you're awake.” Hwayah's voice came from the door and Junhong's eyes fluttered open to look at her. He hummed and nodded his head, carefully tugging the blankets up to cover his naked chest with lightly flushed cheeks.

“How long did I sleep?” He asked the kind woman, tilting his head to the side. After the morning exploring, he had chosen to lay down to rest, even though his body was still sticky with sweat and smeared slightly with mud from the stables.

“I'm not sure how long you slept, I don't know what time you fell asleep.” She laughed softly, shaking her head, “His Majesty has asked that you be bathed and dressed and brought to the throne room. His sister, the lady Yejin is visiting from the north with her Lord and their child, he wishes for you to play the Gayageum for them during the celebrations held in their honour.”

“He wants me to play?” Junhong asked, biting into his lip and carefully shifting from under the covers to stand. He reached for his favourite robe, pulling it over his naked skin and following the woman into the adjoining room.

“That he does.” She said. Upon entering the room he saw the bathtub once again filled with steaming water and he released a sigh of relief at the sight. A young servant entered the room at that moment, her hands holding a small vial as the boy began to undress. She looked to Junhong's naked skin and flushed, before bowing politely to Hwayah.

“Madame.” She said, and Junhong recognised that even though Hwayah was still a servant in the King's home, she held an unspoken power, “His majesty asked for sir to be bathed in peach flower oil.”

“He is very particular with you, Junhong-ah.” Hwayah noted as she took the vial, sending the servant away with a wave of her hand. She uncorked the vial and tipped the scented oil into the water, the fragrance of fruit and flowers rising in the steam from the bath, “Now get in. We do not want to keep his majesty waiting.” 

Junhong hummed as he slipped into the warm water, his eyes closing as he submerged his body beneath the surface. It caused his muscles to relax and his mind to settle into ease. Hwayah pottered around the bedchamber as he bathed, running his hands over his body and between his legs to wash himself clean, before he was rising from the tub and taking the towel that had been laid out for him. When he made it back through the door, the room had been tidied. The bed had been straightened, and clothes were laid out upon the mattress, a small cedar box sitting beside them.

A sleeveless silk shirt that looked as though it had been made from the sky was laid out above a pair of simple white pants. He grabbed hold of the pants and brought them closer to dress after he dried his skin, pulling them on over his slender legs. Hwayah smiled and helped him to slide his arms through the shirt, tying it carefully at the back. The neckline crossed over his chest, exposing some skin, while the pants were not completely opaque, and he knew that he had been dressed as a concubine. 

“Do I look the part, Madame?” He asked, turning his head to look at the strong woman, who simply smiled to him in return.

“You look just as beautiful as I am sure the King imagined you would.” she said, taking a blue sash and tying it around his middle. The fabric dipped low enough to give him the modesty his pants did not provide, and his exposed skin smelled of peach flowers. “Tonight is the first night he is bringing you before the court. Whether you shall entertain, or no, you are his jewel and so you must remain on your best behaviour.”

“Yes, madame.” Junhong said, his long lashes fluttering as she opened the cedar box. Sitting on soft silk was a golden chain, decorated with round white pearls. She lifted it with care and stood behind the younger man to fasten it around his neck. It dipped low into his shirt, guiding the eyes to focus on all skin he was exposing to the Lords in the court.

“Your role is to be desired. You are his beauty and his prize, and you will play to entertain those around you to show off your talents. You are the songbird that others will wish they could take home and bed, but the King will keep you close to show you as his.” She said, tapping the band around his arm, “As this so advertises.”

Junhong looked down at his own skin, his fingers raising to brush over the pearls that sat with elegance upon his chest, “Will I be required to speak to or entertain others with anything aside from my Gayageum?”

“The King will state what he requires, but I doubt he will wish for you to be with any other.” An armoured man stepped into the room, bowing his head to Hwayah with respect, “Lead Junhong to the throne room. He looks so enticing I do not want to send him through the palace alone.” She said warmly, the guard nodding his head and beginning to lead the way. Junhong followed barefoot through the halls, looking around curiously. He had only been to the throne room once, on his arrival into the city. The halls were getting progressively more crowded, and he could feel the eyes lingering on him and the prominent shine of his arm band, signifying his position to the King.

Bronze doors were opened and the guard led him through into the open space. A large table had been set through the centre of the room, the surrounding floor cushioned for the Lords and Ladies to be seated. At the very head of the table Yongguk knelt, Himchan to his right, and the woman Junhong had seen him with earlier to his left. Jongup stood with his hands clasped before him behind Himchan, taking the role of a servant to the Lord General. 

Junhong noticed the eyes finding him, but he kept his gaze focused on the King, dropping to his knees on the stone floor and pressing his forehead and hands to the ground in respect. Yongguk extended a hand and gestured for him to rise, which he did immediately, “So my little brother finally took a concubine.” Yejin broke the silence with a snort, her eyebrow arched, “You turn down the most beautiful young men and women from all across the peninsula for years only to settle on this stick of a thing, hm?”

“He was spoil from one of my General Kwon's campaigns in the south, My Lady.” Himchan addressed his half-sister, raising a cup to his lips and taking a long sip, “Our King returned everything back except our young Junhong, here.”

“Junhong too would have been returned to his home if Lord Kang had not burnt it to the ground.” Yongguk said, silencing his siblings teasings. He gestured to the floor beside him and a servant brought a pillow immediately, “Come, Junhong, sit. He is very talented on the Gayageum, I thought you might wish to hear it and be reminded of why you miss Huingol.” Junhong crossed the room and lowered himself to kneel on the pillow, remaining silent as he heard the three siblings speak. 

“You want to remind me of my love for Huingol by showcasing the skills of a homeless southerner?” Yejin asked, her eyebrow quirking to her younger brother. 

“He is not homeless, Huingol is his home.” Yongguk said, rising a hand and gesturing to the left. Less than a moment later, a cleric was laying Junhong's Gayageum before him upon the floor, and the boy's hands felt the gravitational pull towards his beloved instrument. He released a slow breath and brushed the very tips of his fingers over the strings, not yet making a sound as he felt the music building inside of him. 

It started in his chest, like a glowing warmth, before it slid up into the top of his head, and down into the very tips of his toes. Then, with grace and ease, it slid through his arms, warming each muscle and joint and escaping through his fingers with the first pluck of a string.

The room was silent as Junhong played. His eyes were closed and he could see the warm colours of every note he plucked, he could see his village by the sea, rising from the darkness behind his eyes. He played the joy of children, and the familiarity of home. He played the foreign horses and the glint of swords, he plucked each string in the shape of houses that burned and he curved the notes into mothers crying as they held the bodies of their murdered children. With his left hand he cut each tone into the feeling of fear and loneliness at being taken to a new land, and from his very soul he made his Gayageum sing of a home he would never see again.

The final note hung heavy in the air as he opened his eyes. He fixed his gaze on the instrument before him, his right hand brushing over her body in thanks before he looked up to those who watched him. Men and women alike watched, transfixed as he bowed his head and finally applause ruptured the hall, echoing in his ears. The small smile he allowed to curve his lips did not reach his eyes and the cleric returned to take the instrument away, but he spoke up before she could be touched, “No, please..” he said, his cheeks tinting a soft red, “Leave her. I feel better with her here.” The cleric nodded his head and withdrew.

“You play beautifully.” Himchan's voice startled him and he was brought back to reality, looking to the three siblings who watched him. 

Junhong bowed his head once again, “Thank you, My Lord.” He responded, his voice soft. He had not yet pulled his hands free from the instrument before him, feeling secure with her by his side. Yejin tilted her head, having brought her son into her lap sometime during the song.

“What was the piece?” she asked, cradling the silent child in her arms. Junhong licked his lower lip and shook his head.

“I do not know, my lady. It has not been written, I just played what my fingers told me to.” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“It was haunting... It sounded like it told a story.” Himchan noted as though he were urging the boy to speak, but Junhong simply shrugged once again.

“I just played what my fingers told me.” he reiterated. Yongguk nodded his head and rose a hand to brush his fingers over the golden band clasped around Junhong's upper arm. Junhong noticed the gazes that lingered on him in curiosity, and he was sure that the King's touch was to solidify his possession. He leant into the touch and looked up into Yongguk's eyes.

“You played well.” He said, and Junhong smiled at the praise and bowed his head.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He breathed, settling into his seat comfortably. He licked his lower lip and watched as food was brought to the table. The room once again livened with the brightness of conversation, and Yongguk plucked food from his plate to feed Junhong until the boy had his fill of the royal delicacies. Lords and Ladies danced as music sparked throughout the royal hall, the King laughing as he talked with those around him, a cup secure in his hand. 

Junhong remained seated where the King had placed him, his Gayageum still laying by his side while men and woman moved around him, “Your musical skill exceeds rumour.” The voice was chillingly familiar, and Junhong's gaze rose to watch General Kwon kneeling down upon the floor beside him. His gaze flicked to the King as he stood across the hall in discussion with a lord, Himchan at his side, the two engrossed in their conversation.

“Thank you, General.” The boy responded with a polite bow, his gaze remaining submissively on the floor before him. He knew nothing could happen when Yongguk was in the room, but his body was rigid with distaste. A cold finger traced a line over his forearm, and he twitched away.

“You have gone from being the prize of a greedy Lord to being the prize of the King. Oh how fortunate some are.” Kwon's tone held displeasure. Junhong could feel his cold eyes driving into his skin and he felt afraid of what this man could do to him, “You should have been mine to display to all my guests as a decoration, but instead precious silk and treasures are wasted upon a peasant whore.”

“General Kwon, I would be kind to remind you that you speak to a royal courtesan, not a village Kisaeng.” Himchan's tone was sharp and Junhong startled, curling in upon himself as the man withdrew from his side and stood. He looked up and saw how Himchan's hard gaze was focused on his inferior, expression stern and lacking amusement.

“Junhong and I were just getting reacquainted. We have not spoken since parting ways in this very room.” The General said, his eyes focused on the King's brother, “I am pleased to see he has settled into the palace life.”

“How kind of you.” Himchan's tone was dry and he dipped his head to Kwon in polite dismissal, “The King is retiring for the evening.”

That was all he had to say to have Junhong rising to his feet. His nose piercing glinted in the light as he stepped alongside Yongguk and followed him from the hall after he bid his siblings goodnight, relaxing when he felt the familiar warmth of the King's hand pressing to the small of his back.

The halls were silent as they walked alongside one another, Junhong's fingers clasped together before him. Lords and Ladies watched them pass, some now gazing curiously at the Southern boy who had played music so beautifully, others eyeing his skin with ill-concealed lust as they passed through into the sanctity of the King's silent wing.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Yongguk spoke, his eyes focused straight ahead. Junhong nodded and looked down,

“I am glad my attire pleases you, Your Majesty.” He said. He had been aware of the eyes lingering on him that night, but he knew as well that the gaze that watched him with the most intensity belonged to the King. 

“I have told you, Junhong. Do not call me that when we are alone.” He said, and the younger allowed himself a smile.

“I will do better to remember, Yongguk-hyung.” he said, licking over his soft lips as the King stilled outside the bedchamber he had gifted to Junhong.

“Rest, Junhong-ah. Your Gayageum shall be returned to you in the morning, and I promise she shall be safe.” he spoke, his fingers sliding gently over Junhong's jaw and throat, before he stepped away.

“Goodnight.” the younger murmured, watching as Yongguk smiled and disappeared down the hall.

That night, Junhong dreamt of fire. A haze fogged his mind and restraints bound his arms, stopping him from moving. He couldn't scream or call out but he could hear his mother crying for him. She was begging for him to save her. He could see her silhouette just out of his reach, just too far away but he couldn't move, he couldn't speak. Hot tears burned down his face as he struggled, feeling the binds cutting into his skin and still she screamed for him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, he wanted to promise that he would keep her safe and protect her from anyone who would cause her harm but he couldn't. He watched as someone came closer and hands grabbed at her. Her screams were getting louder and he was choking, choking on his tears, on vomit, he couldn't watch, he couldn't see her die. Not again.

He woke with a shout, his body shining with sweat, his face wet with the hot burn of tears. The blankets that covered him were suffocating, and his whole body felt too hot as though the very walls were closing in on him, threatening to crush his body. He pushed the blankets off his naked skin and grabbed a robe that lay discarded beside his bed, pulling it on over his body. His footsteps were silent as he crossed the room, carefully pushing open the door that lead into the courtyard, and stepping outside onto the pavement. It was cold and the air was crisp, his arms automatically wrapping around himself in an attempt to conserve heat.

He looked up, seeing the stars shining above in the clear night sky. When he had been a child, his grandmother told him that when people died they became the stars, and he couldn't help but think the sky had become more crowded since the day his village had burned.

A shiver ran through him as wind whipped through his hair and he couldn't help but regret his choice to not find slippers before he came outside. It would snow soon, he was sure. The tips of the mountains that surrounded Huingol were already white, and soon it would be cold enough for the snow to cover the city and winter would finally set in.

“It is cold, Junhong-ah. What brings you out here?” Yongguk's voice sounded from behind him, and he jumped in surprise. He blinked slowly, turning to the man before he looked down, seeing his toes curled against the stone. Yongguk approached from the opposite side of the courtyard and the doors beyond that linked into his own chamber. His black hair hung free at his shoulders, and his body was draped in a silk robe of royal blue that covered his nudity.

“I had a nightmare... I can't sleep.” Junhong responded. Slender fingers curled into his hair, stroking through the strands with care.

“You can't stay out here. You will freeze.” Yongguk murmured, his hand smoothing down the back of Junhong's neck. He stepped away and held out his hand, “Come.” Junhong lifted his gaze and parted his lips with uncertainty, before nodding his head and slipping his hand into that which was extended to him, following Yongguk into his chamber. He stood in the centre of the wide room, turning his head as the King moved to stand behind him, curving his fingers around the hem of the robe that concealed his body. Junhong allowed himself to be undressed, the silk falling into a pool at his feet. He wrapped his arms around himself and turned his head, watching as Yongguk shed his own robe and pulled back the covers. Junhong stepped naked over the stone floor and lowered his body to the King's bed. There was something luxurious about the mattress, the way the sheets slid over his skin as Yongguk himself followed him under the covers. Hands brushed over naked thighs and a bare stomach, before a strong arm settled around his middle and they descended into silence.

It had been years since Junhong had slept with such ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, some Korean definitions:  
> A Hanbok is a traditional Korean dress.   
> Kisaeng were entertainers in medieval Korea who played instruments and danced, most often they were also prostitutes in villages and cities.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I want to thank each and every one of you for leaving kind words, kudos or simply reading the story! I can't express how much it means to me.  
> Leave me a comment, let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Winter fell into the Valley suddenly and relentlessly. The chill of wind had set in early, bringing frost over the stone courtyards and city squares before the sun rose each morning until all of a sudden Junhong awoke and Huingol was under a blanket of white. He had stepped to his window and stared out in wonder as flecks of soft snow fell from the sky and settled on the courtyard outside his bedchamber.

He pulled a robe over his body, tying it with care around his middle and brushed his fingers slowly through his hair. That day he was due to be fitted again for winter coats, after the King had expressed concern when he had seen the boy emit a single shiver one evening around the regal dining table. He had been sitting to the side of Yongguk, his Gayageum laying over his lap as the Lords and Ladies ate and talked among themselves. Dressed in a sleeveless charcoal robe and white pants, his skin shuddered in the air of the wide halls.

“Hwayah.” Yongguk had said, raising his hand to gesture to the woman. She approached his side immediately, bowing politely, “Junhong is cold, arrange for the seamstresses to pay him a visit. He does not have attire suitable for the Valley's chill.”

Junhong felt a smile creeping upon his lips as he remembered how Yongguk had beckoned him closer and tucked his form to his side. He had not cared as others stared at him, because he was safe against the King.

The southern concubine stepped silently from his bedchamber. The day was young, but he knew the wing would already be empty. Any servants who came to tend to Yongguk's needs would have already been dismissed hours ago, and he was sure the King himself was already knee deep in the day's business. A shiver ran through his body as a breeze came through a partly open window, but he enjoyed the reminder of the winter cold as it allowed him to settle in to the cozy comfort of the warm palace. 

He rounded a corner and felt his steps stutter as the sound of pleasured gasps found his ears. He blinked and hesitated, his eyes being drawn to the open door to one of the libraries that dotted the wing. They were rooms he never set foot in, he had little need to when nothing they contained would be anything but foreign and nonsense to him. His gaze curiously peeked through the door and widened as he saw Himchan gripping Jongup's slim hips, the younger reclining over a table while Himchan pressed forward in a firm and even pace. Jongup's fingers grasped for purchase on Himchan's clothed back, while his own naked form arched from the wood it was pressed against until his lips parted to release a pleasured cry of ecstasy and completion. The General grunted his own pleasure into Jongup's neck not a moment later, the two stilling in their movements.

“Gods be dammed, Moon Jongup, I love you.” Himchan groaned softly, his lips searching over Jongup's naked skin. His teeth grazed over a recent mark they had left, before soothing lips followed to tenderly apologise with a kiss. Hands loosened their hold, and the King's brother withdrew from his beloved, pulling up the silk pants he had pushed to his knees.

“Himchannie...” Jongup murmured, his head turning to the side, his cheeks flushed from exertion, “I love you, too.”

“And how do I know you're not just saying that?” Himchan's tone was gentle and teasing as he guided his naked love to sit, a hand smoothing then over his sweaty brow, “Your body has been so pleasured, my love. I could have fucked you into delusions.” 

“Four years is a long time to be deluded, Himchan-hyung.” Jongup lurched forward, pressing his face into Himchan's chest. Junhong was holding his breath, determined to stay silent as he bore witness to something that held such intimacy. His heart almost ached when he heard Jongup murmur, “Do you have to go?”

“I'll be home before the full moon, Jongup-ah.” Himchan said, stroking through Jongup's black hair.

“The full moon is a long way away.” Jongup frowned, withdrawing slightly to look up at his master, “Why does Yongguk send you? Why can't he send another General?”

“Tensions are tight with the Northern Lords, it would look far better for me to be sent rather than a dispensable inferior. The King sending his own brother is a show of respect, showing that they matter enough to not just have any General official knocking at their door.” Himchan's voice held a softness as he pressed kisses slowly over Jongup's crown. The lips trailed down the elegant slope of Jongup's nose, before finding his own pouted mouth in a slow and adoring kiss.

“Can't I come with you, then?” Jongup asked, after the pressure was broken.

“No. It is safer for you here.” The man's tone took a firmer slide, his brow furrowed and his hands gently reaching to wrap Jongup's robes around him, wishing to protect his fair skin from the cold, “If I know you are within the palace walls with Yongguk, I will rest much easier.”

“Just promise you will return to me safely.” Jongup's eyes were pleading, his fingers curling around Himchan's biceps.

The General kissed his lover upon the crown and murmured softly into his hair, “I promise.”

“I don't think the General would appreciate your spying.” Junhong jumped as he heard the voice, his head turning guiltily to look at the cook, Daehyun. He bowed politely and stepped from the door, his cheeks heating red as he dropped his gaze. The cook smiled slightly, shifting a plate of food he held in his hand, “I once caught them kissing... General Kim didn't want Jongup near me for a month.” He elaborated. 

“I didn't mean to stare...” It was a very pitiful defence. Daehyun smiled and shook his head, gesturing a little way up the hall, back towards where Junhong had come from.

“I was sent to deliver this to you.” He explained, gesturing to the food on the plate. Their tones were hushed, and Junhong followed the cook further up the hallway. He pushed open the door to his bedroom and allowed Daehyun entry, the man looking around curiously.

“Thank you for bringing me the food. I slept later this morning than is regular.” Junhong spoke, carefully seating himself upon his mattress, watching as Daehyun placed the plate before him.

“Hwayah sent for me. She said I was specifically to deliver the food.” Daehyun spoke, looking out into the courtyard and upon the untouched snow. Junhong had not heard the cook speak this much before, and he was beginning to notice the rounded edges of his words, or how some syllables were stressed in an achingly familiar way.

“U-Uh Daehyun-ssi...” He began, uncertain how to breach the topic, “Are you not from Huingol?”

When Daehyun turned his focus to Junhong, his lips, large and pouted, spread into a wide grin and he laughed, “No. You only just noticed? I am from the south, much like you. My city was east of Lord Kang's palace, but not too far. I have lived in Huingol for many years, though. My speech is no longer as southern.”

“Why did you come?” Junhong asked, lifting a piece of rolled rice and seaweed to his mouth, chewing slowly.

“My parents moved here. They said they wanted to give up on a life of fishing, so they brought me and my brother here when I was seventeen. They sold their homes and boats in the South and now live happily selling wares in the city.” Daehyun spoke with a hum, “My brother became a solider not long after we arrived, and soon following that I was offered a position in the palace.”

“Do you miss the sea?” Junhong frowned in curiosity, wondering how someone could willingly relinquish the ocean. Daehyun's gaze softened and he nodded his head, carefully taking a seat at the foot of Junhong's bed.

“I dream of it.” He admitted, before the outer corner of his lip twitched upwards. His eyes traced the delicate pattern of the blankets piled upon the simple mattress, his dark hair falling into his eyes, “But I would never leave Huingol. Too much holds me here.”

Junhong surveyed the man before him, noticing only then how their tongues had slipped back into an ill-used dialect. He could see there was something Daehyun did not wish to share, and Junhong would not press for more. Even cooks must keep their secrets within the palace. Instead, the concubine pushed his plate towards the man, tilting his head curiously as he took another bite of food, “Why was Jongup asking General Kim to stay? Where is he going?”

Daehyun reached forward and stole a piece of the offered food, placing it upon his tongue with a pleasured groan. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the delicacy in his mouth, before a single eye opened, “There are rumours of an uprising. Some of the Lords further North are dissatisfied with the unification of the South, and they need to be placated by the King. Usually, a lower General would be sent to calm them down, but these are powerful men. General Kim paying them a visit is a great honour.”

“Is he going to be in danger?” Junhong asked. His naïveté left him often ignorant of the palace politics, but he knew that if these men were hostile to the crown, a visit from a royal general might not be welcome.

“Any other would be, but not General Kim. The blood in his veins is the blood of the King, and killing him would trigger a war.” Daehyun explained, “Even though he is the son of a concubine, he is by his birth right a prince.”

“So he is the safest person to send.” Junhong stated, and Daehyun nodded his agreement, “I didn't realise there was unrest in the Kingdom.”

“There will always be unrest. There is not a way to keep everyone content and satisfied.” Daehyun said. Junhong liked this cook, his eyes were kind and gentle, his words soft as he explained to his fellow southerner, “Be careful with who you speak to in the Palace, because even in the court of Huingol there are people who are unfaithful to the King. You are in a powerful position, Junhong-ah... You carry the King's favour, and some may attempt to use you.”

Junhong frowned and he could see that Daehyun's expression was serious and the man was only wishing to protect him, but he could feel the fear building in his stomach from such words, “Why would they be unfaithful to the King?”

“Every Lord or Lady in this court has family outside of Huingol. Some have cousins who run mines to the south, or farms to the West. Some have brothers and sisters who do not love our King, and who make their dissatisfaction clear.” The cook watched as Junhong ate another bite of his food, “Politics is a messy business. I am thankful that I do not have the responsibilities they hold.” His smile was kind, and he extended a hand to gently nudge Junhong's shoulder. It was then that the young man was overcome with a wave of warmth as he realised how much Daehyun reminded him of the brother he lost many years ago, “I'm much happier in my kitchen, and you just have to sit there and look pretty.”

The teases made Junhong smile, his head shaking, “I do what the King requires me.”

“And the King requires your presence.” Hwayah's voice sounded from the door, both boys turning to look at her. She stepped in and tilted her head, seeing how the two sat comfortably on the bed and her fingers brushed gently through Junhong's sleep-ruffled hair, “When I said bring Junhong-ah food, Daehyun-ah, I did not mean for you to eat it all.”

The cook looked sheepish, sending Junhong a toothy grin as he stood himself up, “We were getting to know one another, Madame.” He said, bowing low to her once he was at his feet.

“And you must get to know Junhong-ah by sitting on his bed? Some might misunderstand such a position, you should be more careful.” The woman said.

“Daehyun-ssi and I were just talking, Madame.” Junhong offered, slowly following Daehyun to his feet and straightening his robes. Hwayah pursed her lips and nodded, waving her hand to Daehyun.

“Return to your kitchens for now.” She said, “The King may summon you later, you know there are things to be discussed.” With that, Daehyun bowed low. He backed slowly from the room, sending Junhong a grin on his way out through the doors.

“Call me Hyung, kid.” He said, before disappearing down the hall. Junhong frowned for a moment, not understanding what Hwayah's parting words to the cook had meant, but she was already pottering around his chamber.

“That Jung boy is nothing but trouble. I am glad you are friends.” She said, and her lips curved into the ghost of a smile, “But please do not have him visit you in here. Gossiping servants are not pleasant, and the King would not appreciate hearing that you have been holding audiences in your bedroom, even if they are with someone he trusts.”

“Someone he trusts?” Junhong blinked, standing still as Hwayah began to undo his robe, grabbing another and slipping it over his arms. She tied the sash at the front in a large bow, a soft decoration for the simple, casual clothing, “Does His Majesty know Daehyun-hyung?”

“The King has chosen to trust Daehyun-ssi. He is an important person to the functions of the palace, and of the kitchens.” Hwayah said elaborating little, “Now come, we don't have time to bathe and dress you properly.”

The courtesan nodded his head and straightened up, allowing Hwayah to guide him through the wing. His mind lingered on what Daehyun had told him, until the door was opening up and he was lead into a study, by the courtyard he had seen the King in with his sister. The room was simple, the walls lined with books and documents and the King himself sat on a low divan before a desk that was dotted with papers. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes skimmed over the words that decorate the documents.

“Your Majesty.” Junhong greeted, bowing low. The loose robe around his body rustled with his movements, the front drooping low to bare more skin of his chest as he greeted his King with respect. He swallowed, knowing one might deem his casual dress as inappropriate, little more than undergarments, but he did see how Yongguk's eyes lingered upon him with approval.

“Junhong.” he said in greeting, gesturing to the divan beside him. Junhong crossed the study and carefully lowered himself down beside Yongguk, his hands laying easily upon his lap as he surveyed the man before him. He looked tired, more tired than he had that seemed in the proceeding days, with heavy eyes and a creased brow, in need of a distraction. His hand moved to lift a small bound book, the cover leather and the pages worn and yellow, “Read to me.”

The request took Junhong off guard and he opened his mouth in surprise. He looked down at the book held to him, a flush rising upon his cheeks, “Your majesty..” he began, taking the book in hand. He opened the pages and his eyes traced the shapes written on the paper, all curved edges and sharp lines, “I don't know how to read.” There was little use in denying the truth.

Yongguk's brow arched, his eyes surveying the southerner before him and he was reminded that even in the silks and riches Junhong had been gifted, he had still been raised a peasant. He reclined on the divan like a cat in the sun, his chocolate brown eyes surveying the boy before him, “Tell me a story, then. Tell me about the sea.”

Junhong shifted, tucking his long legs beneath him and looking down. The robe he wore had the faintest pattern stitched into the silk, small flowers laced together like a vine against a wall and he began to trace them with the very tips of his fingers while he began to speak, “The first time I saw Huingol... I had never felt so small. My village was crushed without grace between the mountains and the sea, and everything felt cramped. The streets always smelled of fish and seaweed, and every square inch of space was taken by a building or a warehouse or a stall.”

Yongguk watched him with a focused gaze, a servant entering the room with a tray that held an elegant porcelain pot and two cups, a place of dried persimmons balancing at the side. They were a delicacy Junhong had rarely seen with his own eyes, and he watched eagerly as the tray was placed before the King, though after three years with his former Lord, he knew better than to assume he was allowed any treats. He had been allowed to taste them once, not long after he had been taken from his home.

“During summer the seaside was hot, the sun was bright and reflected from the water in such a bright way it was almost blinding. The winters were cold, however. Often the water would freeze, and the fisherman would have to walk over the ice so they could cut holes into it and hang lines through to the water underneath.” he closed his eyes as he remembered his small village, it was cozy and safe, “Everyone knew one another, everyone was friends. My father and my elder brother worked in a small market, selling fresh fish my uncle would catch.” He shifted on the seat, struggling to find a comfortable position, causing the King to smile.

“Lay down.” he said, voice gentle and a hand gesturing to his lap, taking Junhong off guard. He was in no position to deny however, and he lay back on the couch, his head settled on Yongguk's firm thighs, and his eyelids fluttering. He did not care for how his robe spread to reveal more skin of his chest or how such a familiar position would be interpreted by another. He was safe in Yongguk's arms, and to him nothing else did matter. 

“The sand was golden, the water was clear and all the plants were green. Our small village was happy and everyone cooperated with one another. When Lord Kang first came to the south I was just a small boy, I did not understand why others felt concern. We were forced to pay him taxes, which resulted in the village getting poorer and more at strain. When we had a weak catch over the Summer, things would be hard when winter arrived, until finally one winter we were unable to pay our taxes at all.” Junhong's voice was getting softer, not looking up at Yongguk as the man began to gently slide fingers through his hair to soothe his aching heart, “When spring came, he sent us a warning that if we did not pay, the village would be punished. There was no way to send the gold and silver to him because we could not make it in time, and by the night of the full moon the raiders came.” 

Junhong did not remember much from that night, he remembered hearing the screams, and the smell of smoke heavy in the air. He remembered how his mother had told him she loved him, before she sent him to hide in hopes that her baby would survive. Lord Kang had found him crushed between two crates of the morning catch, his skin smeared with mud and his whole being trembling with fear. He had watched his home burn as he was dragged through the silent streets, the only one left alive.

Hot tears burned behind Junhong's eyes as he remembered what he had tried so desperately to forget. He turned his head and closed his eyes, willing his breaths to remain even and slow, not wanting to feel the fear that had tormented him for so many years while living at the mercy of the man who had taken everything he had loved, “I don't know what is there now. Lord Kang never spoke to me of what he did to the land once it was burned.” 

“Lord Kang had a temper that craved violence and blood.” Yongguk said as his fingers gently smoothed over the side of Junhong's face. They traced the shape of his jaw, then curved along the arch of his slender nose, “Did he beat you?”

“Yes.” Junhong admitted easily, not able to open his eyes, “He owned me jealously, and he would have me beaten if he ever imagined I spared a single glance to any other. A Lord visited from the southern islands one day last Spring, and he mentioned to my Lord that he wished to have me before he returned home. He thought I was just a simple concubine, someone to be fucked and shared, but Lord Kang lost his mind at the thought of another ploughing me. He had me kneel before the visiting Lord and whipped my back twenty times, until I was raw and bleeding and almost unconscious from the pain. He said the Lord could have me, but that the sheets of whatever bed I was taken on would always be stained with my blood so that both I and the Lord knew to whom I belonged.” 

Fingers stilled on his skin, and Junhong heard Yongguk release a slow breath. He was sure the King knew more than he did about Lord Kang's behaviour, easily enough to send an army to his door, “He will never touch another again.” he spoke, his voice deep with resolve. 

“His mood always changed, sometimes he was mean but sometimes he was kind.” Junhong wasn't sure if he was trying to defend Lord Kang, or if he was still trying to lie to himself and mask the fear and pain of the years he had spent as little more than a slave in his court, “He took pride in my music, and he often praised me before his court. I took sleep curled on the floor of his chamber, but sometimes he would bring me into his bed.”

“I do not want to hear of that.” Yongguk said, his voice suddenly sharper. Junhong's eyes blinked open and he looked up at the King, his cheeks flushing crimson and his heart thumping faster in his chest.

“I-I'm sorry..” Junhong breathed, shocked at himself for saying something so stupid. Of course he was a fool to think it appropriate to speak of such things in front of his King, his new Lord. 

The hand that had brushed through his hair gently smoothed over the base of his neck and along his exposed sternum in apology, the King's eyes dropping to gaze upon the boy reclining over his lap. “You do not need to remember him. He is gone.” he spoke, gesturing to a servant at the side of he room. Junhong flushed as he realised they had not been completely alone, his gaze flickering to the King as the stranger served the tea on the table, bowing once the task was complete, “Leave us.” Yongguk said, and the man faded into the dark of the hallway.

Silence descended once they were left, nothing but the sound of trickling water and bird calls filling the space between them. Junhong did not move as he felt the fingers sliding back into his hair, and finally voicing the question he had wondered many times since leaving his southern keep, “Is he in the dungeons? Is he a prisoner?” His voice was soft, his eyes finally rising to look upon his King.

“He was killed when General Kwon raided the palace. He did not submit to the crown, he instead fought back and he was slain.” Yongguk said, reaching to the table and lifting a dried persimmon between his thumb and forefinger, “His body was left to be buried by his clerics.”

The younger of the two nodded his head and released a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, “No one will be hurt by him again.”

“That is correct.” Yongguk looked down at Junhong, gently sliding the dried fruit over his slightly parted lips, leaving a sticky trail of the sugary syrup behind. The boy flushed and looked up at Yongguk, his tongue timidly flicking to taste the residue, emitting a sound of pleasure at the flavour on his lips, “How did you learn to play the Gayageum?”

“My grandmother taught me..” Junhong spoke, just as Yongguks other hand began to once again brush against his sternum, “She spent many days teaching me to play from memory. I cannot read music any better than I can read script, so everything I know is implanted in my brain.” He said, watching as Yongguk took a bite of the persimmon, licking his own lips and nodding his head.

“You have talent and skill. You play better than I have ever heard before.” His fingers brushed further down beneath the silk, sliding temptingly around the rosy bud of a nipple, before sliding back up to trace the hollow dip of his slender throat. Carefully, the bitten fruit in his hand was lowered to Junhong's lips in a silent offer, awaiting the boy's movement. Junhong hesitated as the delicacy was offered to him, the rich aroma filling his nose before he took the courage to lift his head and sink his teeth into the treat. The sweetness of the fruit struck him and brought a moan from his lips as he chewed on the soft fruit, the compliments Yongguk had given dying on his ears as he was overwhelmed. He swallowed what was in his mouth and opened his eyes, watching as Yongguk ate the remainder of the fruit, a smirk curving his full lips.

“Have you never eaten dried persimmons before?” he asked, the tips of his fingers, sticky with sugar, brushing over Junhong's lips. The boy nodded his head and shyly flicked his tongue over the digits, eager to taste what was offered to him.

“Only once... Many years ago.” he said. His face was flushed red, and his heart was beating fast in his chest as he felt a familiar eagerness begin to thrum beneath his skin. The King pulled his fingers away, and guided Junhong to sit, drawing him carefully into his lap. The boy settled upon his thighs, watching the man before him as he pushed the burgundy silk from his shoulders, exposing his chest and leaving the robe to pool around his elbows. Junhong lifted a hand and touched it to Yongguk's bicep, the cool air chilling his exposed chest.

“You truly are beautiful, Junhong-ah..” he spoke, his voice husky and warm with interest. He lifted another sweet between his fingers and gently brushed it over the exposed collarbones before him, and Junhong watched as Yongguk's lips followed, soft kisses pressed over his skin to clean it of the sticky trail left behind.

“Your majesty...” he gasped at the warm contact of lips and tongue on cooling skin, listening to how Yongguk chuckled at his breathlessness. He trailed the fruit lower and followed it with lips and tongue every time, until Junhong was panting, his eyes closed and the curve of his arousal obvious beneath his silk robe. His pink nipples were swollen and pert as his chest heaved with a need he had not felt naturally ripple through him in a long time.

Finally, the fruit was brought to his lips and he admitted a whimper as he took it into his mouth, feeling at the mercy of the hands that held him with such incredible care. Junhong was no virgin, but never had he been aroused from anything other than his will to please and obey, “Can you stand, Junhong-ah?” The voice was tender, soft. It held a warmth and care that made Junhong feel dizzy in all the right ways. He nodded his head and chewed slowly on the fruit, his heavily lidded eyes fluttering and gazing needily at the man before him. He carefully slipped back from his lap and onto his own feet, his hands coming up to hold his robes closed. Certainly he must look truly debauched, while Yongguk still held an unwavering grace as he stood and gazed upon his courtesan with ill-concealed hunger.

Calloused hands slipped into his and lead him from the study, leaving their tea and treats forgotten beside the divan. The halls were empty of servants and clerics as Yongguk guided him to the bedchamber, sliding open the wooden door and uncaring in his haste to close it. He lay Junhong out upon the bed, looking over his form and carefully undoing the knot of his sash, pulling it away and opening his robes to reveal nothing but naked skin beneath. The contrast of the deep burgundy robe against his pale skin highlighted each elegant curve and arch of his body, even as his thighs pressed shyly closed. 

Yongguk's hands slid with care over his soft stomach, brushing against each line of a scar or mole that imprinted on his skin, his head dipping down to kiss possessively over every inch, “Do not hide from me.” he spoke as his hands gently pressed to his lover's knees and parted his legs, exposing his intimate form to the man before him, “You have nothing to be shy about..” His eyes, almost black, traced the curve of Junhong's erection, his fingers sliding down to brush against the black curls that darkened the base and finally, Yongguk's mouth claimed his in the heat of a kiss. 

Junhong keened into the pressure, his eyes fluttering closed and his lips parting to eagerly respond, accepting the King's tongue as it lurched into him to taste. Yongguk's own hands made a hurried attempt at undoing his own clothing, throwing his belt down onto the floor and shrugging his robes from his shoulders as he heard Junhong moan into the kiss. 

Neither could care as silk was left in a pile on the floor and Yongguk was finally sliding over him upon the bed. The heat of skin against skin had Junhong arching up, his face contorting as he broke the kiss to whimper and Yongguk's impatience fuelled him to begin sliding his lips down over Junhong's slender throat. Lips and teeth eagerly claimed skin and a growl of need rumbled from Yongguk's chest, leaving his mark in his wake. The gold band around Junhong's forearm showed all he was the possession of the King, but it was the crimson marks that stained his throat that truly showed Yongguk's claim over his very body and soul. Junhong's face was flushed and his heart thumped fast as he watched Yongguk reach for a vial beside the bed, tipping the exotic scented oil onto his fingers and carefully rubbing them together. As the digits came closer, he felt his thighs parting eagerly in anticipation for the touch.

The kiss tasted of sugared persimmons and smoked tea and Junhong had never tasted anything more intoxicating. He felt as though his head were spinning until he felt the grounding press of a finger into his body. The intrusion had him arching and his head tipping back while his thighs trembled, the sight causing a slow hum of appreciation from the man above him as he slowly began to work the finger into his treasured companion. He curled the digit with care, before adding another to gently work Junhong open.

The wing was filling with the sound of panted breaths and desperate moans as Yongguk's digits pleasured his concubine, watching the way each muscle twitched, each limb trembled. He saw how Junhong's brows furrowed as he felt the pleasure grow, before his entire body relaxed when a particular brush gave him momentary relief. It was a beautiful sight of sensuality, and Yongguk knew he would crave it tirelessly from this moment forward. Junhong was even more beautiful than he had believed, and every grind and rock of his hips was continuous proof of the natural grace of the southern peasant.

The world disappeared around them as they lost themselves in one another. Yongguk's fingers slipped free, and he used the scented oil to slick his length, hissing at the way it stimulated him and teased his aching body. He watched transfixed as Junhong arched as he was penetrated, crying out with need and desire as his body accepted each and every roll of Yongguk's hips, his legs spread open in submission. Sweat shone on their flesh as the sound and scent of skin and sex filled the room, punctuated by staccato breaths and fluid thrusts.

There had been a time when Junhong had perfected the art of pleasing a man. He had practice in how to behave, how to tease and give just what a man needed to be searching for more. He knew how to tug and pull the man in before finally submitting and willing himself into ecstasy to give his master the performance he required, but nothing about his submission to the King was practiced. He felt as though every inch of his skin was on fire as pressure built inside of him, and every thrust into his needing body caused a cry to be torn from his throat until finally, a wave of pure bliss crashed over him and he screamed until his voice cracked and his mind went blank.

Yongguk followed him into orgasm with nothing more than an animal grunt, followed with a low growl of possessiveness and satisfaction. Junhong went limp beneath him, eyes unseeing and his breaths panted with desperation, unable to control how his body twitched and his eyes fluttered. His arms were still in the sleeves of his robe, though his fingers were grasped onto Yongguk as though his very life was dependant upon him. Blunt nails pressed into skin before they fell onto the bed by his sides and the King carefully withdrew to stand with panted breaths.

“Mmm..” Junhong whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed as he tilted on the verge of consciousness, uncaring for how his legs were spread wide to expose his body without shame. 

“Rest, Junhong-ah.” Yongguk said, his hands gently smoothing over Junhong's cheek. The feeling of full lips against his forehead was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah this is a chapter I have been excited to reveal since I wrote it a few weeks back. It feels good to finally have it out in the open!  
> Thank you so much for reading, leave me a comment and let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

The softest hint of winter sunlight on his naked back was the first thing Junhong felt when he awoke. He scrunched his eyes closed tighter as he shifted just a little over the soft sheets, groaning quietly to himself. It was mid afternoon and his naked body felt warm and content with the remaining afterglow the pleasures he had experienced at the hands of his King. He arched his back and stretched his arms out, palms pressed flat to the headboard before he collapsed again upon the mattress, his face buried into the pillows.

“Did you sleep well?” Junhong lifted his head as he heard the King's voice. His soft lips parted and he carefully pushed himself up to sit, brushing his hair from his eyes to see the man before him. Yongguk stood by the window, a robe over his form that remained undone, unashamed of his mostly exposed body. His hair was down, but he had pushed it back from his face as he surveyed the courtyard. Small birds fluttered over the snow, grabbing at seed that had been scattered for them earlier in the day.

“I did, thank you.” Junhong said. The room was cool, not uncomfortably so but Junhong still brought the covers tighter around him, “Did you?”

“I did.” Yongguk replied, stepping from the window and returning to the bed. He sat down upon the edge, a hand rising to brush through messed hair, then sliding down the back of Junhong's neck and tracing the line of his sloped shoulders. Yongguk's head dipped and his lips pressed carefully to where his neck met his shoulder in a tender kiss. He couldn't get enough of the snow white of Junhong's skin, salty from sweat. Junhong closed his eyes and shivered at the feeling, causing his King to smile, “Are you cold?”

“No...” Junhong responded. He turned his head and looked at the man behind him. Yongguk's hands dipped into his lap, pulling the blankets up to cover him. Lips pressed just behind his ear, and Junhong's cheeks warmed, “it tickles...” He admitted. The King laughed and grazed his teeth over the shell of his courtesan's ear while his arm wound around his middle.

“You prove to be just what I need to relax, Junhong-ah. Yet now here you have me addicted.” The man spoke as he gently guided Junhong's head to turn and sealed their mouths in the press of a kiss. The pressure held no heat, and something warmed in Junhong's belly as each touch and brush of fingers to his skin had him feeling so adored. A throat cleared from the door and Yongguk pulled back with an expression of displeasure, “What?” He asked. 

Hwayah stepped over the threshold, eyeing the two where they sat upon the bed, “Someone is here to have a private audience with you.” She said, causing Yongguk to frown. He looked down at the naked form of his lover, then glanced back to her.

“I am busy.” He said. The hold he had on Junhong was protective, and the younger carefully pulled the covers higher so that he was not quite as exposed, even if it was just Hwayah. If the King did not want his skin to be seen, he would not bare it.

“It is Youngjae.” Hwayah said, her tone dampening. The King stilled and lifted his head, his expression guarded as he nodded slowly. Carefully, he withdrew his hands from where they had been drawn to Junhong's body, instead doing up the front of his robes. He seated himself further upon the bed, extending an arm to beckon Junhong once again to his side, and the younger would never turn down such an offer. He shifted beneath the covers, curling in to his King's side, his face tucked to his chest, while the blankets kept his body covered.

“Bring him in.” Yongguk's voice was clear, serious. Hwayah bowed her head and stepped back into the hall. Junhong's eyes lifted to look at Yongguk, but he knew better than to speak, instead calmly relaxing into his master's warmth, feeling content in his adoring hold. Hwayah returned, bringing with her the boy, Youngjae, whom Junhong had only met once in the Kitchens. The man bowed low, his palms pressing flat against the floor, his forehead touching between them, “You may rise.”

Youngjae stood, his spine straight and expression serious and Hwayah took that moment to excuse herself, leaving the men alone. Junhong watched with wide eyes as Youngjae surveyed them uncomfortably, anxiety obvious upon his face, “Your Majesty...” He began, glancing again to Junhong. The King noticed his discomfort, his fingers brushing through his companion's black hair.

“Junhong will not share what he hears with anyone.” Yongguk spoke for him, but the boy nodded his agreement anyway. If Yongguk asked it of him, he would not dare speak of this to a soul, even the friends he had made within the palace walls. “Is this regarding your master?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Youngjae said, his focus holding to Yongguk's face now, “He has plans to bring his brother to the city.”

“When?” Yongguk asked. This seemed to be important, as his brow furrowed and his lips turned downward into a frown.

“Soon. I am sure that when General Kim returns, he will bring the Lord with him.” Youngjae said. His hands were clasped together behind his back, his stance rigid with what Junhong assumed was nerves. Whoever Youngjae's master was, he was betraying them by offering intelligence to the King.

“Himchan has not told me as much. He would have sent a messenger.” Yongguk said, but Youngjae shook his head.

“They want you to be unprepared. Your Majesty will look bad if the Palace is not prepared for the guests, they want it to be a surprise. They wish to embarrass and disrespect you, Your Majesty, so I am certain it shall be a surprise to General Kim on the day of his departure.” Youngjae said, his brows furrowing as he spoke the words. Yongguk's lips pursed in distaste and he nodded his head.

“Will they be here by the Feast of Noeul?” He asked finally, tightening his hold on the boy in his arms.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Youngjae said, bowing low. 

The King released an exhale, “Thank you, Youngjae.”

“It is my honour to be your ears, Your Majesty.” The man bowed again, slowly beginning to withdraw from the room. The door closed with a soft click and Yongguk's expression softened, his gaze turning. Junhong had fit himself so easily into the man's side, his naked body arching into that which held him. Yongguk remembered how Junhong had moved as he had been overwhelmed and overcome with animal pleasure, he remembered the elegant curve of his spine, and the soft trembles of his tense muscles. 

Junhong blinked dark eyes up to the man who held him so securely, his long lashes fluttering with each movement. He reminded Yongguk of a young doe, all natural grace and lithe limbs with such innocent and tender eyes. One part of him wished he could spread Junhong open again, that he could fuck into him with abandon and need, but another side wanted to cherish the boy. He was a precious jewel housed in the palace, the King's to own and protect. Like fine china too precious to display.

“I shall call for Hwayah to run you a bath.” He said, voice deep as his hands brushed over exposed skin. Junhong lifted a hand of his own, brushing it slowly along the shoulder of his King's silk robes.

“Your Majesty...” he said, “You said I am what you need to relax.” He gently looked down at the knot that tied Yongguk's robe closed and his slender fingers began to make easy work untying it, pushing open the robe to expose his naked body beneath, “allow me to relax you?”

Yongguk watched as Junhong pressed forward. His mouth found Yongguk's collarbone in a featherlight kiss, before it traced slowly over his left breast, then a nipple, next his top rib. He watched as Junhong slowly dropped further and his soft, plump lips found the head of his swelling erection. Fingers slipped into Junhong's raven hair, his eyes closing as he succumbed to the warm heat of his courtesan's mouth.

The boy did not emit any sounds of discomfort as he worked with care and skill, hands keeping himself steady and his own eyes remaining closed, “Junhong-ah..” Yongguk caught himself groaning as his thigh twitched, his fingers tightening their hold at a certain long, drawn out suck before he relaxed once more. A hand smoothed over Junhong's cheek, sliding next to brush his neck, submitting himself to the warm waves of pleasure that rocked through his body, relaxing each muscle and calming him.

Junhong's skilled lips and tongue brought him slowly to release, and he voiced his pleasure with a low growl of approval, watching as his courtesan swallowed him down with satisfied ease. It was intoxicating, Yongguk thought as he watched Junhong rise again to sit. His cheeks were pink and his lips swollen, but the way he leant into the King's side, his fingers immediately curling into the soft silk of his open robe had Yongguk pausing. 

The weight of a Kingdom resided upon his shoulders, but in this moment he could forget the world and lose himself in Junhong, “Junhong-ah...” He said. His hand lifted and gently cupped the courtesan's cheek, the warmth of his palm causing Junhong's eyes to flutter closed. In a movement of grace, Junhong turned his head and nuzzled affectionately into the hand.

“Yes, Yongguk-hyung?” Junhong asked, voice soft.

“Do you trust me, Junhong-ah?” Yongguk found himself asking such a question, his lips turned downwards into a frown. Strong hands shifted and he dragged fingers over chest, stomach, feeling the bones of Junhon's weaker body through his skin. The boy was at his mercy, and yet he never looked so content than he did when he was by his King's side.

“I do, Yongguk-hyung.” The courtesan spoke without hesitating, “with you I know I am safe.”

Silence stretched between them, their eyes meeting. Junhong did not blink, or turn away. He was not intimidated by the gaze that was fixed to his own, and Yongguk saw a strength that could be so easily shielded by a timid and delicate exterior. 

It was the King who severed their eye contact, his head turning as he called, “Hwayah!” It only took a moment for the door to be opened, the lady standing in the entrance with averted gaze.

“Yes, my Lord?” She asked. Junhong wondered how many times she had been in this very room before herself, as the lover of Yongguk's father. He also wondered how many times she had to see him bedding another woman.

“Draw Junhong a bath. I want him smelling of roses at dinner this evening.” Yongguk said, brushing his fingers through Junhong's soft but dirty hair. When Junhong stood, he had little care for his nudity, or the debauched state of his skin, it was instead the King who watched him with careful eyes and a promise to himself that no other would ever see his concubine thus.

*

Snow fell for eight days straight. The whole Valley was covered in a deep blanket of white, and movement had all but ceased. Everyone in the Palace remained indoors, and very few of the peasant population left the city gates, favouring instead the warmth of their homes or bars much closer in towards the centre.

Not long after awakening on the eighth day of snowfall, Junhong was summoned to one of Yongguk's studies. Hwayah had bathed him in steaming water and rich, spicy oils that had him bearing the exotic scent of the western markets upon his skin. She had told him stories as he washed of far away lands, where the grand cities were built upon rolling hills of sand, and where vast markets sold unfamiliar spices unlike anything that could be found upon the Peninsula. Of course she, herself, had never seen anything so romantic but she assured him it was the truth.

He had entered the study wearing a charcoal grey robe. It was heavy, lined with the softest wool to keep his naked skin warm beneath, the sash tied in a large bow at the front as a simple decoration, and so that he could be unclothed with ease. Yet the King had not wished to lose himself in the temptations of Junhong's body, instead keeping his focus on the papers before him and allowing Junhong to stretch his body out languidly upon the divan nearby. 

He looked through long tomes, taking note of each exquisite brush stroke along every word. It amazed him how Yongguk's trained eyes found words between the illegible shapes, when to him it was nothing but rounded curves and sharp corners. If he stared long enough, he could see pictures. Graceful trees growing tall, curving rivers flowing between. He saw the movement of soldiers marching through mountains and stampeding stallions rushing into valleys.

Birds chirped from the courtyard outside and he lifted his head, seeing them flutter between the trees, the snow finally having stopped falling. Slowly, he closed the book before him and stood, stepping across the room quietly and looking outside. He could see patches of blue sky between parting clouds, the sun finally shining once again upon their beautiful city home.

A knock came at the door and Yongguk spoke without lifting his gaze from the parchment before him, “Enter.” Junhong turned his head and watched as the door was pushed open, Jongup stepping inside. He wore black robes with crimson trim, much like Himchan had the day they had met. Junhong wondered briefly if it was some kind of uniform.

“Your Majesty.” Jongup bowed low in greeting, closing the door behind him. Yongguk quirked an eyebrow and sat up straighter.

“Jongup-ah, what brings you here?” The King frowned, his expression one of concern. Jongup's lips curved into a soft smile and he nodded his head, stepping closer and extending a hand forward. Folded parchment was held between two of his fingers, his left hand pressing beneath his right elbow as he offered the letter to their King – a show of respect.

“A messenger from General Kim came this morning, and he offered me this.” Jongup said. Yongguk took the parchment with a smile, shaking his head.

“He also offered you another letter from Himchan, I'm sure.” Jongup's smile was somewhat abashed as he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Another letter did come, Your Majesty.” He admitted. Yongguk unfolded the parchment with a soft chuckle, leaning back on his seat as he read over the words. 

“My brother's love for you, Moon Jongup, will never be underestimated.” The King's tone was warm, “and yet I can't say I am not disappointed. You were going to make an exceptionally good assistant to me before he begged me to re-assign you to his quarters. Though it is good now that I have his faithfulness to you preventing him from bedding half my servants.”

Jongup's grin bared his somewhat crooked teeth, his eyes almost disappearing, “My aim is always to make your life easier, Yongguk-hyung.” 

“By keeping Himchan out of trouble, Jongup-ah, I cannot thank you enough.” Yongguk's eyes sparkled as he teased his absent sibling. Jongup nodded his head and bowed as the King opened the letter and read through the words neatly printed upon the parchment. Junhong tilted his head with a curious eye, wondering what it was the General had to say until Yongguk set down the parchment, “I am sure you and I alike are eagerly awaiting Himchan's return, Jongup-ah.”

“I always miss him when he leaves Huingol.” Jongup confirmed, bowing once again. He then turned to look at Junhong, his frame hesitating for a moment before he spoke again, “Yongguk-Hyung... The snow fall has ceased, and I was thinking that this afternoon I might take my horse outside the palace gates. I wonder if you would allow Junhong to accompany me.”

Yongguk arched his eyebrow, setting the letter he held down upon his other documents, “Where were you intending to go?”

“Not far, at most to the Lake if the snow permits.” Jongup responded, his hands clasped before him. Yongguk nodded in thought, the long sleeves of his royal blue robe teasing over the papers before him until he finally voiced his approval.

“If Junhong wishes to, I will allow it. On the condition you have Daehyun accompany you.” He stated, extending a hand to beckon Junhong forward. The boy easily slid up alongside his King, a hand settling into his palm. “I might be the King, but Himchan would have my hide if he knew I was allowing you out of the gates alone, Jongup-ah.”

Junhong frowned in slight confusion, glancing between the men before voicing, “Daehyun? The cook?”

“Some people are trustworthy, and I am not allowing the jewels of Huingol out of the gates with anyone less than my most trusted.” Was Yongguk's response and Junhong knew better than to push. He dipped his head down and allowed the King to bring him into a warm kiss. Although Yongguk had an intimidating and on occasion formidable exterior, Junhong always thought his lips were deceptively soft, and every kiss that lingered between them felt like a treasured moment of intimacy. Junhong straightened his stance and rested his hands upon Yongguk's shoulder, “take Junhong to dress, Jonguppie-ah, I will send for Daehyun and have the horses saddled.”

“Thank you.” Jongup bowed low, and the two left the room. Nearly half an hour passed by the time they made it across the square and to the stables. Junhong had dressed in a heavy woollen coat, his feet tucked in the warmth of lined leather boots and a hat perched above his head. Jongup was donned similarly, though his coat was the same rich ebony that nearly all of his attire seemed to be. The city appeared almost empty and the footsteps the two friends trudged into the virgin snow were the first to break the fresh surface. Junhong thought it was a shame to destroy the flawless plane, he quite liked the idea of such an untouched world.

Stepping through the stables, the two boys exhaled slow breaths. It was warmer here, between the bales of dried grass and the hot bodies of each grazing animal. A little way down, beside one of the stalls Daehyun stood with his back to them, the person he faced obscured by his form.

“I'll fucking kill him.” His voice was low, serious. A hand lifted but was battered away.

“Don't, Daehyun. Don't even joke about that.” It was Youngjae's voice, and Jongup's hand slid down to grip Junhong's forearm, halting them in their movements. Youngjae stepped slightly to the side and Junhong's lips parted as he lay eyes upon his battered skin. His lip was split, his cheek red and blue – bruised from an unconfirmed force.

“He should never have touched you.” Daehyun gritted out. His fingers were gentle when Youngjae allowed them to touch, the very tips brushing first over a slender jaw, then over the split lip that still oozed a single trickle of blood. The cook wiped it away, exhaling audibly.

“I'm his servant he can do what he wants.” Was Youngjae's response, even as his head turned and he leant into the gentle touch. The growl Daehyun emitted was almost animal and he withdrew his hand to instead clench it into a tight fist, his other sliding over something at his side. A small leather scabbard at his hip. “You are a cook, Daehyun. It is not worth your time to consider the way a General treats his assistants.”

The cook scoffed and he clenched his jaw, “if he knew what I was capable of-” He cut himself off when Youngjae looked over his shoulder, spying the two approaching. Daehyun turned his head and straightened his spine, both hands withdrawing to fall to his sides, “about time you two arrived.” He said, as though nothing had happened or had been seen. Youngjae retreated and disappeared around the corner of a farther stall, leaving the three alone between the tall beasts and the few stable hands who lingered to care for their animals.

“Is Youngjae-ssi.. alright?” Junhong asked, glancing in the direction in which he fled. 

Daehyun's smile was wide, his expression warm, “Of course.” He said. Neither believed him. However they had no time to question, their horses being brought over towards them. A white mare was lead by a stable hand, saddled with black leather and crimson tassels, a chestnut stallion beside her. His saddle was a deep, rich brown, something more simple. At the rear came Yeona in all of her stunning glory, and Junhong could not stop himself from smiling when he saw her.

“Hello...” he murmured, brushing a hand over her nose and listening as she snorted at him, nuzzling in close. Jongup mounted the mare with ease, and Daehyun only took a moment longer to seat himself upon the stallion, both watching with intrigue as a hand helped Junhong to sit astride Yeona's graceful back.

“I have never seen His Majesty allow anyone other than himself ride Yeona.” Daehyun said, Jongup cutting him off with a laugh.

“I've never seen Yeona allow anyone but his majesty ride her.” he said, leading his mount towards the open doors. They were greeted at the city gates with chilled soldiers almost like statues in their frozen posts, opening the gates and allowing them into the white wilderness.

The further they got from the city, the quieter it was. The horses puffed out hot breath, creating steam in the air as they walked at a careful pace through the snow. Luckily, the road was still clear ahead of them and it was easy to follow without leading them into the haunting graveyard that was the winter forest, stripped of green and life. Junhong saw a squirrel dart up a tree, his lips twitching at the sight, lost in his own thoughts rather than focusing on those he was accompanying. 

It was ten minutes after they left the city gates that he finally voiced, “Who is Youngjae's master?” He blurted out the words, unable to take how the need to know and piece it all together was overwhelming him. Daehyun did not look back, simply remaining silent for a moment that stretched long.

“General Kwon.” He responded in a matter-of-fact tone. Junhong's eyes widened and he glanced to Jongup, the boy showing no surprise. Of course it was no secret who Youngjae would work for, and he briefly wondered if these two people knew that Youngjae was spying for the King. After what he had witnessed in the stables, he knew there was something unknown about the nature of Daehyun's relationship to the Servant boy, and Jongup must know almost all that Himchan was told.

“I... Did not realise.” Junhong admitted, his lips turned into a frown. Daehyun glanced over his shoulder, slowing his horse down to bring him alongside Yeona, matching her content pace. The animal had no interest in doing as told, simply walking at the pace she deemed necessary and pleasant, it seemed. This benefitted Junhong, of course, as he had no idea how to command such an animal.

“It's hardly a secret.” The cook said, shrugging a single shoulder. 

“Kwon is not a good man.” Junhong spoke aloud, Jongup shaking his head at his tone.

“You would be hard pressed to find anyone in the court who disagreed with you.” He said, one hand holding the bridal, the other resting upon his muscled thigh. Junhong remembered that Jongup had grown up in Huingol, and must have spent many days of his childhood upon a horse. “I would not recommend voicing your concerns in the Palace, though. People have a habit of talking.”

“You are more powerful than you realise, Junhong-ah.” Daehyun elaborated, his hand smoothing over his stallion's neck, brushing through his shaggy mane, “Yes, you are a courtesan but that does not mean your words are meaningles. Everyone will know who you are walking down the halls, and any opinions you may state can easily be forced back upon the King. It will look as though Yongguk fed you those thoughts.”

“He has not said a word. When General Kim spoke of General Kwon in front of me, Yongguk-hyung changed the subject.” Junhong responded, frowning.

“I'm sure he doesn't want to concern you with palace politics. Kwon wants you, he has been clear about it since the very moment of your arrival into the city and Yongguk does not want you to fear him because as long as you wear that band around your arm, you are safe.” Daehyun said. They came through a clearing of bowed trees, the branches heavy under the weight of the snow. It was so still, and Junhong was amazed at how quiet things were, no one upon the road, barely an animal. Beyond the trees was a stretch of pure white, and Daehyun carefully dropped from his horse onto the ground, leading him through the trees to the bank of a frozen lake.

It was beautiful, stretching on to the base of the mountains that built the edge of the Valley and it was completely blanketed in untouched snow, “During the Summer, Himchan sometimes brings me here to bathe naked. The water is warm.”

“General Kim will take you anywhere to get you naked.” Daehyun teased with a smile, holding Junhong's hand as the boy dropped with little practice to the snow covered ground. Jongup's crooked teeth were bared and he shrugged a single shoulder.

“It's beautiful in Summer. It's beautiful in winter, too.” He said, brushing his hand over his Mare's nose once again. The youngest of the group watched as Jongup pressed his forehead to her's, the man muttering soft words as he brushed loving fingers over her ears, and back through her mane. She groaned and puffed out air, making Jongup smile with a loving warmth.

“Is she yours?” Junhong asked, and Jongup tore his eyes from her. He nodded, his arms wrapping easily around her neck.

“She is. Nari.” He said, releasing her so that she and Yeona could drop their noses into the snow, searching for something edible beneath, “She was a gift from Himchan.”

“She was his prize Mare is what she was. Jongup looks at her once, says she's pretty and Himchan is bending over backwards to give her to him.” Daehyun snorted, stretching his arms above his head. Junhong was surprised by the familiarity the cook spoke with, how he did not speak of the royal family with respect, or the honour that was often required. Jongup just rolled his eyes and dipped his hands into the snow, forcing the powder into a ball between his pressed palms and tossing it in the direction of the eldest Southerner.

“Himchan had more horses than he could use. He gave her to me because I loved her.” He said. Junhong smiled and shook his head, his hand remaining on Yeona as she happily took the snow into her mouth to drink. Daehyun yelped as the snowball hit him square in the chest, scowling at Jongup before he glanced at the newest member of their Palace lives.

“I'm sure the King will soon be showering our young Junhong here with riches.” He said, his eyebrow arching. Junhong shook his head and smiled shyly.

“I am not so certain. General Kim bestows his gifts upon Jongup because they are in love.” He dismissed Daehyun's claim, Nari stepping over the snow and away from her human master.

“Do you love the King?” Daehyun's question was abrupt and it caught Junhong off guard. He blinked in surprise, his fingers curling tightly into Yeona's mane as she contently nosed over the ground beneath them.

“He is kind to me. He is gentle and adoring and he treats me like...” He hesitated, pausing to think. No one had ever treated him like Yongguk did. Even if he had been a treasure that belonged to Lord Kang, he had never been treated like something precious. His position in that court had been as a decoration, a toy, not anything or worth. Yongguk's words from before they left rung in his ears, how he had been called a Jewel of Huingol by the King himself. Memories of nights and days they had spent together swelled in his mind, and he admitted that yes, the King held a very warm place in his heart. Junhong lifted his gaze and his eyes met with Daehyun, the cook's lip quirking in amusement as he gazed into the shy eyes of the courtesan.

“Aah.. So maybe it is not love as of yet, but you hold the King in your affections.” He said but Jongup stepped forward and tossed another ball of snow to their eldest friend.

“Junhongie-ah's feelings towards our King are the business of Junhong's and His Majesty's.” He said, stepping closer and throwing an arm around Junhong's shoulders. The boy had the modesty to blush and glance between the two. There was something he did not know, it was obvious. The relationships of the people before him were not all that they seemed to be.

As Jongup pulled away from him, he lifted his eyes and looked again over the wide lake. It was probably frozen solid by now, but seeing how flawless the surface looked, he was sure not many animals wished to take the risk. Around the very edges of the lake were thick trees, obscuring anything from view. He felt as though in all the world they were alone, like there was nothing else.

“Are there any other towns in the Valley?” He asked, but Daehyun shook his head.

“No. The land has never been cleared, so other than hunters or travellers these forests remain pretty empty. We are dependent on trade for grain, all we can gather from here is what can be hunted or foraged for in the forest, and what can be grown within the city.” He brushed the snow from his hair as Junhong continued to stare out over the winter landscape.

On the other side of the river there was movement from the trees. He thought he was imagining at first, and his heart beat faster in his chest, his hold tightening on his equine companion until he saw them emerge. Like ghosts from between the leafless trees – a herd of wild horses stepped through the snow. They were tall and strong, their bodies moving together to the edge of the ice and at the centre shone an animal of warm, blood red.

“They are one of the many herds that live in the forests.” Daehyun said, his gaze following that of the young courtesan. His stallion had grown restless in their presence, and Daehyun's hands soothed along his neck to rub at his tense withers. 

“Did you see her?” Junhong asked, heart hammering in his ears. The cook arched an eyebrow, glancing back to the herd as it disappeared back into the covered safety.

“Did I see who?” He asked, snuffing his foot against the ground. They were standing on a stony beach, and as the sunlight shone down upon them, the shape of round stones were more visible beneath the blanketed white.

“Noeul.. Noeul, she was there!” The boy claimed, his arms tightening around Yeona's neck. She was calm, undisturbed by the visit of a foreign herd. Jongup exhaled a cloud of breath, stepping away from Nari to instead lift a stone from where he had cleared the snow aside.

“Some of the peasants say her spirit still lingers in the forest. That is why they pray to her.” He said with a nod. He threw the stone as far as he could, watching as it sunk easily into the snow and emitted nothing. Not a sound. 

A cloud passed across the sun overhead, and all three lifted their gazes to see the red glow of sunset touching the tip of the surrounding mountains. Daehyun easily lifted himself into his stallion's saddle, “It will be dark soon, it's time I take you two home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the only thing I have to translate is the name Nari, Jongup's horse. It means Lily in English.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! It means the world to me every time.


	6. Chapter 6

The clouds did not part for long. When the sun rose on Huingol the day after their ride to the lake, snow had once again fallen. It was deep, hard to move in, and Junhong knew it may be a long while until he was able to leave the city walls again.

 

Days drew on, the citizens of the golden capital enclosed entirely in their homes and it seemed everyone Junhong came across was irritated. Jongup told him it was because of the connection they had to their horses and that the people of Huingol grew restless when they were unable to see their animals. Part of him believed it, as he felt his mind wandering to Yeona. Her eyes haunted his mind, his fingers itched to run over her slick black coat, and his body missed the feeling of her sturdy saddle beneath him. It was too cold, however, for him to venture to the stables, even in the warm, heavy coats that were gifted to him from his King.

 

Instead, Junhong remained within the palace walls. He spent much of his time in his rooms practicing his Gayageum, or in one of the King's many studies reclining on a divan. Yet most of his time he could be found in the vast kitchens, speaking with Daehyun and Jongup, even Youngjae too when the man ventured also into the warm series of rooms, though he had been unable to meet Junhong's eye since he bore witness to the servant's confession to their King.

 

On this day, however, Junhong was seated in the deep bath. A maid had filled it with heated water for him after he awoke naked and alone in the King's bed. His thighs were sinfully stained from his night with Yongguk, and he needed to wash before allowing himself into the public halls. His fingers swept through the water, his head tilting to the side. The winter chill was setting in, leaving him often shivering against his will, but the steaming water around him was perfect and every muscle of his tired body was able to relax.

 

Footsteps approached from the hall and he opened his eyes, remaining silent in his uncertainty. Of course he had bathed in the King's bath before, but never without the presence of Hwayah, or another of the wing's maids and never without explicit invitation.

 

“I am glad to see you are awake.” Yongguk spoke from the doorway. Junhong's lips twitched into a smile and he tilted his head back, sinking slightly lower in the tub.

 

“Good morning, Yongguk-hyung...” he hummed. The King most often awoke before he, yet was kind and did not rouse him from his slumber whenever he slept in the warmth of Yongguk's bed.

 

“The water looks very hot.” Yongguk observed, moving forward towards the bath. The steam had Junhong's cheeks flushing pink, his hair damp and heavy. He nodded his head and licked his lips, stretching his lengthy legs as much as was possible in the bath tub.

 

“Huingol is much colder than I am used to.” He admitted in a soft tone, his eyes following the King's movements. Yongguk reached for a stool that sat to the side, and lowered himself to perch upon it.

 

“The shade of the mountains prevents sunshine.” He said needlessly. His fingers extended and gently began to thread them through Junhong's raven hair, smoothing out the knots and tangles that formed through his slumber. The boy closed his eyes and hummed as he leant into the King's touch, comforted by the gentle sensation of fingers scratching at his scalp. He felt lazy, his limbs heavy as allowed the touches to soothe his body with his toes curling against the bottom of the metal tub in response to such a pleasurable touch, “Are you sore, Junhong-ah?”

 

Junhong felt a smile twitch at his lips as he opened his eyes. Yongguk had been exquisitely devoted to appreciating his body the night before and he had been left a tangle of trembling muscles almost unable to speak from the intensity of his pleasure. That morning, there had been a dull ache in his lower back but it was a small price to pay for the enjoyment of his King's company, “Only a small ache, Yongguk-hyung, nothing more than I can handle.” Junhong said softly, gazing up at the caring man above him.

 

Yongguk nodded his head and his fingers began to slide down along the length of Junhong's neck and dipped into the water. He smoothed over the boy's shoulders, then chest, following then by tracing the tip of his index finger around the ring of his navel, “I shall call upon you this afternoon.” He said with a soft voice, “I have a string of meetings, and once they are complete I shall need to relax.”

 

Even through all of the loving touches and affections the King bestowed upon him, he could never forget what his role was in Yongguk's life. Junhong nodded his head and hummed as fingers and a round palm brushed further over his skin, his thighs parting for the hand to dip teasingly between, “I will await your calling upon me, Yongguk-hyung. I am always eager to please you.”

 

Wet fingers lifted and curled into his hair, tipping his head back from where it had drooped forward to watch the hand as it moved over him below the water. Junhong smiled lightly up at his King and licked his lips, “You do please me, Junhong. Unlike anything else.” Yongguk spoke in assurance. His other hand rose, his knuckles brushing over the courtesan's slender throat, nudging at his adams apple and watching it bob as he swallowed, “you are a good boy for me, Junhong-ah.”

 

Yongguk was looking upon him with such an intensity and he could barely resist turning away and closing his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, lips were on his and he was melting into the kiss. As always, he pressed forward to each tender and loving press of lips and tongue into his mouth, whimpering with need for the man before him. Even if the King owned him, even if he had a role to play and a duty to fulfil, nothing about his reactions to Yongguk's touch was rehearsed.

 

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub in his movements, but even as it splashed the front of Yongguk's exquisite robes, neither paused to care. The fingers in his hair tightened and the kiss was broken for lips and teeth to instead reacquainted themselves with the pale throat that had been marked already the night before in a rush of passion and possession. Junhong lifted his hands and touched the King's shoulders as he threw his head back, allowing himself to be ravished and taken at the King's mercy.

 

The edge of the tub was digging into his ribs, but he didn't mind, not as Yongguk's lips and teeth found his shoulders, all but licking the water droplets from his skin in his attempt to bring his treasure closer, “Y-Yongguk...” Junhong gasped, his fingers curling into the soft silk at the King's shoulders and his erection swelling between his thighs.

 

Yongguk spied his arousal immediately, his breath fanning over Junhong's shoulder as he growled with a possessive need, “I don't think I want to wait until this afternoon.” He said and brought himself to stand, pulling away from Junhong completely. The boy trembled in anticipation, his eyes wide and his lips swollen from the ferocity of such a kiss. He carefully pushed himself to his feet, taking the hand Yongguk offered him and climbing from the tub. Wet feet spread puddles over the stone floors as he was guided through into the adjoining bedchamber and laid out upon the mattress, awaiting the moment when contact was finally made, and he could submit to the sweet pleasures of Yongguk's desire.

 

He watched as the man touched a hand to his knee, bringing him apart. He had been spread open last night, he knew he could take Yongguk immediately, if the King so chose that as his want. Yongguk's fingers upon his left hand made work of the fastening of his robe, allowing it to fall open, following it by pushing at his pants, letting them slip to around his knees. He teased his own body by brushing against Junhong's waiting entrance, dipping three of his fingers into the nearby oil they always used. Yongguk had explained it made this more comfortable for the both of them, that it would prevent him from causing Junhong pain, or from splitting his skin. He was thankful that Yongguk took him with such care, always attentive to the needs and responses of his courtesan's body.

 

Junhong's spine arched with a sinful grace as Yongguk pressed forward. The burn that had scorched through him that morning mattered little as he was filled by his King, who already rocked his hips in a steady rhythm and drew sounds of need from his throat. Yongguk had an incredible ability to make him so easily overwhelmed with such otherworldly pleasures.

 

The King's fingers dug into his thighs, keeping him spread open to ease the way as he thrust with strength into his body. They lost themselves in one another, a mess of sweat, sex and limbs. Yongguk kissed him with heat, tasting his mouth and his skin and marking him as a possession of the crown with red roses along his throat, that blossomed from the attack of lips and teeth.

 

Junhong came first with a scream, followed soon after by Yongguk with a shout. They collapsed together, Yongguk atop his form, still buried deep inside of his body and having no intention to withdraw soon. Junhong turned his head and closed his eyes, humming as he lifted a hand to brush through Yongguk's sweaty hair, pushing it from his eyes as his legs fell back onto the mattress. It was overwhelming, and his head was spinning, body hot from the intensity of such passion.

 

It was then, however, that running footsteps could be heard echoing from the hall and a breathless servant stood in the doorway. He respectfully did not look into the room, merely standing outside to announce clearly, “Your Majesty, a group of twenty mounted on horseback have just come through the Northern Pass.” He said, “General Kim is leading them.”

 

Yongguk lifted his head and hummed, lazily scraping his teeth along Junhong's collarbone, “send for a party to greet them and water their horses at the gate.” He said, his index finger sliding temptingly over Junhong's lower lip, the boy opening his mouth and taking the digit in, sucking slowly on it to tease his sated King, “send for Jongup. Tell him his master is returning, and he must be with me to greet our General at the gate.” Junhong could see how Yongguk's eyes focused upon his mouth.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty. He shall be at the gate in not an hour.” The man said, before disappearing down the hall. Yongguk rubbed the pad of his finger over the soft plane of Junhong's tongue, his eyes lazily lifting to survey the boy beneath him. He was beautiful, that had not been in doubt, but he was exotic. He did not look like a Huingol native with his nose pierced and his skin delicate, almost as though it was fragile china.

 

Junhong shifted and gasped around the finger, his eyes rolling into his head as he felt the movement of Yongguk's length still inside of him. The King knew he could continue, he could seek another orgasm from Junhong's wanting body if he deemed it fit, but there were other things that needed his attention. He pressed his hands to Junhong's hips and withdrew, hissing as he did so. One hand pulled up his silk pants as he stepped away, leaving his courtesan laying back naked and debauched upon his bed, “There is something I have for you, my treasure.”

 

Junhong blinked slowly at him and his thighs gracefully closed. He pushed himself to sit, his damp hair falling into his eyes. The boy did not feel shy about his naked skin, feeling little need to cover himself up unless it was obvious his King would prefer it, “something for me?” He asked. Yongguk's lips twitched upwards as he crossed the chamber and brought a box from the sideboard. It amused him how Junhong seemed genuinely disbelieving every time he was given a gift, as though he did not believe himself worthy of any kind of treasure.

 

The King carried the box towards the bed and seated himself upon the mattress beside Junhong, pleased with how he naturally curled in against his side, “For you, my beauty.” Yongguk confirmed. He set the box upon the mattress and slowly opened the lid. Within it lay a small veil of finely woven satin in a soft apricot, held together with black string. Junhong tilted his head in confusion as Yongguk lifted it from the box. “You are beautiful, Junhong. You are a treasure of the city, and of my palace. You are _my_ treasure.” Yongguk said. He lifted the veil and carefully brought it over Junhong's face, fastening it behind his head. It rested across the arch of his nose, hiding his mouth and chin from view, “I will have you entertain in my court with dance and music, but I will not always have you exposed. Your beauty is mine, just as your body is, and when our guests enter my court, I will have you veiled when you entertain. It will symbolise to them that you are mine, and that they are not to speak with you without my permission.”

 

Junhong licked his lips beneath his veil and lifted his gaze to Yongguk. It felt strange to be naked and veiled before his King, but he wouldn't deny Yongguk a thing, “of course, Yongguk-hyung.” He said, his fingers moving to rest against the man's thigh, “I am yours”

 

“You are mine, and I must protect you.” Yongguk confirmed, pressing his lips to Junhong's forehead, “Return to your bath. I will have Hwayah lay out the clothes I desire for you to wear.”

 

“Yes, Yongguk-Hyung.” Junhong said, and did as he was told.

 

The city was a rush of movement as Junhong finally made his way through the halls. Servants bustled, Lords scurried and the palace guards made their way towards the city square that spread out before the golden palace. He had promised to meet with Yongguk by his study, and when he arrived the man was sending calm orders to all who could hear him. The King turned to survey Junhong, he wore white pants and a grey robe that covered his torso, while the veil he had been gifted earlier was obscuring his nose and mouth, preventing his piercing from glinting in the light.

 

“Come, Junhong-ah. They will arrive any moment.” He said, his hand pressing gently to his lower back. People parted for them, clearing the way to the large, bronze doors that were opened wide by the two guards that stood like statues on either side.

 

A group had already gathered at the top of the steps. Junhong recognised some of the more senior officials who worked closely with the King and his brother, he also noticed General Kwon standing to the side with Youngjae stationed silent and stationary behind him. The bruising had disappeared from his skin, and his eyes were focused straight ahead, obviously avoiding looking to the King.

 

Right in front of them, at the top of the stairs stood Jongup, his hands clasped behind his back. Junhong noticed his knuckles were almost white from how hard he clenched his hands together and he felt his lips curve into a smile below his veil. Yongguk stepped up into the centre and Junhong remained slightly behind him, close beside his dear friend who he was sure was thrumming in anticipation of Himchan's return. Neither of them noticed the rows of guards who took station at the back, watching with care as their visitors arrived through the city gates.

 

Peasants and city workers alike began to gather by the main road, watching the procession of foreign horses and Northern officials through Huingol to the palace. Some cheered for their returning Prince, others muttered small exchanges and spared curious glances for the visitors to their secluded home.

 

Himchan took the lead, and Junhong saw how his lips spread into a wide grin as he saw his brother awaiting him on the palace square, elevated above the road atop stone steps. It was the man to his right, however, that had Junhong hesitating. His expression was dark and assessing, his mouth twisted as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. The arch of his nose and furrow of his brow told him immediately that this was General Kwon's brother, the man who's fuss had been the cause for Himchan's departure to the North necessary.

 

The man dismounted and brushed his hands against his pants, looking around the city with ill-concealed dislike. Yongguk stood straight as he watched his approaching guest and Junhong remembered that Lord Kwon believed the King had no knowledge of his coming to the city. He was glad his veil concealed his mouth, as he could not hide the smile that formed on his lips as Yongguk greeted their guest.

 

“I trust you had a pleasant journey to the Valley, Lord Kwon.” He spoke, “your brother was not kind enough to confirm your arrival, but thankfully you have made it in time for our celebrations.”

 

Lord Kwon glanced to his brother and gave Yongguk a tight-lipped smile, bowing low as he approached, “Your Majesty is kind to think of including us in your festivities.”

 

“And who exactly is this _us,_ Lord Kwon?” Yongguk asked, not even looking to his brother as he dismounted his horse.

 

“Well, after your half-brother was so kind to pay us a visit, Your Majesty, we thought it was only proper to give you one in return. I have come with some of my dearest friends to speak with you in person.” The man said, “I have also brought my daughter, Kwon Seonmi, you remember her I am sure.”

 

Junhong felt Yongguk tense beside him and spared his King a curious glance. A woman from further along the procession dropped gracefully from her horse and made her way to her father's side. She wore a robe of deep brown for their travel to the city, her hair tied back in an elegant bun and Junhong could see that she was beautiful, yet her face was hard. Her eyes were piercing and her brow had a cynical arch as she bowed low to the man before her, “Your Majesty. It has been far too long.” She greeted. Her voice was calm, but it was sharp and Junhong hoped to never face the razor of her words.

 

“Kwon Seonmi, it has been a long time.” Yongguk said, his tone guarded. He turned to the side and gestured to a guard, “Take our guests to their quarters. I am sure they are eager to settle themselves and wash after their journey.”

 

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.” Lord Kwon said, his lips curving into a smirk.

 

“The kindness of the crown is not unknown to you.” Junhong could hear the sharpness to Yongguk's tone, and he caught the way Lord Kwon winced ever so slightly at the words, guessing they were some kind of insult. He would need to ask Jongup, or Daehyun later.

 

A guard stepped forward, and the guests were lead towards the wing of the palace that was reserved for visitors to the Valley. It lay on the opposite side to where the King himself resided, and Junhong was hopeful he would not need to see those people often.

 

Once they had left, Yongguk finally turned his gaze onto Himchan and relaxed into a warm smile, “My brother.” He said. General Kim made his way slowly up the steps and the two men embraced warmly.

 

“I have missed Huingol greatly, brother.” Himchan said, pulling back with a sigh.

 

“We are pleased to have you home.” Yongguk responded, clapping a hand against his shoulder. Himchan's head turned and he finally trained his focus upon his man servant.

 

“Jongup-ah, I see you are well.” He said, his voice void of emotion, but his eyes shining with a desperate need for his younger companion, “has my wife not come to greet me?”

 

Jongup's lips curved upwards into a widening smile that he could no longer suppress. He needed to dig his nails into his palm to stop himself from reaching out to touch the man he had missed, “Unfortunately Lady Kim did not desire to come out into the snow.”

 

“No matter. It shows the proof of my servant's loyalty that he comes to greet me, does it not?” Himchan could not remove his eyes from Jongup's face, as though he did not believe he was real.

 

“I would always come to greet you.” Jongup said, “Welcome home, My Lord.”

 

“Come, Himchan-ah. We have things to discuss.” Yongguk spoke, his hand brushing over Junhong's elbow, beckoning him to follow them back through the bronze doors and into the palace. The crowd was already dispersing, the horses having been taken away to the stables for watering and the halls of the public wing were once again bustling with the daily activities of the clerics who inhabited it.

 

Yongguk and Himchan walked ahead, while Jongup and Junhong followed behind, listening to the men as they spoke briefly of things that could be overheard with little consequence. Yongguk inquired about the journey, Himchan assured him it went smoothly and asked his elder brother of the happenings in their palace. Once they made it into the private corridors, nearing Yongguk's libraries Himchan spared a glance back, “I hope you took care of my Jongup in my absence.”

 

Yongguk rolled his eyes and fixed his brother with an unamused expression, “Jongup's safety is never at risk in my Palace.” He said. Himchan followed his brother into one of the more private studies.

 

“I remember when Jongup agreed to lay down his life to protect you, brother. Jongup is never safe unless you are.” He said.

 

“Jongup will not be needing to sacrifice his life for my protection, Himchan. You worry too much.” Yongguk chuckled. He sat himself down on the divan that lay beneath the window, and Junhong settled himself down against his side. Yongguk's fingers made quick work of the string that held his veil secure, allowing it to fall and reveal the courtesan's rosy lips.

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Junhong voiced, his lips twitching upwards.

 

“I cannot have your beauty concealed here, my Jewel.” Yongguk murmured, sliding the backs of his fingers gently along his lover's jaw. Jongup stood tense beside his Lord, his eyes flickering to Himchan every few moments before the King shook his head, “You are in safe company.” He reassured the boy.

 

As though floodgates had been opened, Jongup pressed himself close against Himchan's side, and the elder man wound his arms tight around him. Their mouths connected in a passionate greeting and the General groaned into his beloved, “I thought about you day and night.”

 

“I missed you...” Jongup murmured, allowing himself to be brought closer against the elder man. Himchan pressed their foreheads together, his fingers touching over every inch of skin he could find exposed to him as he drank Jongup in again. He chuckled and cupped Jongup's cheeks in his palms, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

 

“You're even more beautiful than I remembered.” He confessed and Junhong felt himself smile. He had not seen love like what Himchan and Jongup shared since he last saw his parents. Every morning, his father would greet his mother with a sweet kiss and tell her she was beautiful, _“like the sunrise, my love.”_ He would say, and she would laugh and shake her head, feigning resistance as he tried to gather her into his arms, _“you only say that because you can't get anyone better.”_ She would roll her eyes and brush away his compliments, shy from the attention. His father always smiled and promised her, _“One day I will make you see how beautiful you are. Then you will know how I feel every time I see you, and how easily it was that I fell for you.”_ Junhong and his brother would watch and laugh as they teased one another. Of course his father never did have a chance to show her, but sometimes if Junhong was awake early, he would look at the stars that glowed as the sun appeared on the horizon. To him, she had become part of the sunrise, and she had never been so beautiful.

 

Junhong jolted from his thoughts as he felt fingers sliding through his hair, his gaze lifting and meeting the dark orbs of his King. Yongguk's gaze was inquisitive, but he did not ask Junhong where his mind had wondered, simply bringing the boy closer against his side and turning his attention back to his brother, “Did you know Lord Kwon was intending to accompany you home?”

 

Himchan tore his gaze from Jongup, though made no move to withdraw, “No. I prepared my things to return and they surprised me as I was mounting Honggyu.” Junhong assumed he was referring to the stallion the man had arrived in their city astride, “They're up to something.”

 

“No doubt.” Yongguk said, playing with the strands of Junhong's hair. He was beginning to believe it helped his King think to be touching him thus, as he enjoyed doing so when he was talking of serious matters, or assessing important documents.

 

“Bringing Seonmi...” Himchan trailed off, moving to sit himself down and bringing Jongup tight against him.

 

Yongguk shook his head, “Bringing Seonmi was a statement. Our father made promises to the Kwon family, and they believe those promises should stand regardless of his death.” Junhong glanced up at Yongguk, curious as to what they referred. He glanced at Jongup, hoping his friend would be able to give him some elaboration, but instead Jongup was simply gazing up at his Lord and Master, transfixed with the sight of him home.

 

“He intended to insult you with a surprise visit, I'm sure.” Himchan stated, his lips pursed distastefully, and Yongguk nodded.

 

“Of course he did. He believes me to be a weak King and his aim is to embarrass and humiliate me.” The awareness Yongguk had was a danger to his enemies and Junhong knew that even he had eyes all through his palace and he knew all that transpired within the golden walls, “In three days we feast to celebrate Noeul. I doubt he will do anything to disrupt us before then. Being seen as a guest at Huingol's largest celebration will look far too good for him to forgo.”

 

“He will pretend he was invited?” Himchan quirked an eyebrow, his lips twitching down into a frown (Junhong had not believed it possible for Himchan to frown when Jongup was in his arms.)

 

“He is desperate for me to honour our father's promise. If other Lords believe we invited both he and Seonmi...” Yongguk shared a pointed gaze with his brother, and the younger pursed his lips.

 

“I do not trust them, brother.” Himchan said, voice low.

 

“Nor do I.” The King confirmed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I am so excited to get into some of the meat of the story so I decided to post it three days earlier than schedule (possible future regrets but right now there are none!)
> 
> The only definitions I have to add here are:
> 
> Seonmi, a name meaning 'Declaration of Beauty'  
> Honggyu, Himchan's horse. Hong means 'clear, deep pool of water' and Gyu means 'stride of a man.'
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please tell me what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

The palace felt crowded with the visitors from the North. The night of their arrival, Yongguk had instructed Junhong to remain in his chambers rather than enter the great hall to entertain them, and it was clear that the King was not at ease with these people in his home. Junhong refused to allow himself to acknowledge the way his stomach had jumped slightly at the thought of the King wishing to protect him.

 

For the first time since Junhong's village had burned, he belonged and it was something he would never relinquish. The halls of the palace were familiar to him, and he could map out nearly the entire building in his minds eye from weeks of exploration. On this morning, he was in the kitchen, eating fresh noodles that Daehyun had made for him at one of the tables while he watched the cook swatting at Youngjae's reaching hands.

 

“I said _go away.”_ Daehyun snapped, elbowing his friend gently in the side, then following the jab with a warning look.

 

“The General will not be happy if I return empty handed.” Youngjae hissed back and there was a strain to his voice Junhong was not expecting. He set down his utensils and watched Daehyun relax slightly, his brow furrowing with concern.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked, suddenly serious. Junhong swallowed and remained silent, seeing how Youngjae rubbed at his forehead.

 

“Nothing, I'm fine.” He huffed, starting to pile the plate before him with the food he required. Daehyun let him.

 

“Is this about Lord Kwon? We could talk to-” Daehyun tried,

 

“To who?” Youngjae bit back, “If I don't do as I'm told, I'll get a smack. If I tell someone, I'll get a smack. If I do everything _right_ I will probably still be beaten so just... Don't.”

 

“Youngjae-yah...” Daehyun said, reaching for the younger man but he withdrew, shaking his head and glancing to Junhong. Youngjae opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance, the door was being thrown open and General Kim stepped inside, Jongup following behind.

 

“General Kim.” Youngjae immediately said, setting his tray down and bowing low. The King's brother glanced at the array of food assorted on the platter and pursed his lips but he said nothing.

 

“My mother told me you would be in here.” Himchan said as he fixed his gaze upon Junhong. The boy blinked and he carefully stood.

 

“General Kim... Does the King require me?” he asked immediately.

 

Himchan's lip quirked and he shook his head, “Yes and no. He doesn't require your presence, but he requires you to come with me.” The man said. His tone softened as he spoke to the courtesan, not sparing a glance to Youngjae as the man scurried off out the door. Junhong noticed the way Daehyun's face settled with concern, not having had the chance to speak to his younger friend. Though he presumed that had been Youngjae's intention. Himchan glanced over Junhong's shoulder and focused upon the man behind him, “Daehyun-ah, Yongguk wishes to speak with you.” The cook nodded his head and pushed himself from the counter he leant against, making his way past them towards the door.

 

Junhong followed the General as he left the kitchen and steered them towards the east. He was moving away from the King's private quarters, instead back into the bowels of the Palace – an area Junhong had only visited once or twice.

 

He knew this was where Himchan belonged. They passed a large room, the walls painted with large maps of the Valley and its surroundings, another room that held arguing Generals and bickering commanders. The halls were filling with guards and men who all spoke in hushed tones but stopped to bow at Himchan as he passed and finally they were in a courtyard. The ground was dusty with dirt, the walls surrounding them far less decorated than those in the royal wing. There were dummies made of wood standing dotted through the space, ropes wrapped around pillars. Junhong knew this was a practice yard and he felt uneasy as he surveyed his surroundings.

 

Himchan stepped towards a rack, grabbing a short sword by its hilt and drawing it with a hiss. It was no special tool, looking old and chipped with age, but he held it with such ease as though he were born with a weapon in hand, “Have you ever wielded a sword, Junhong-ah.” Himchan asked. Jongup was off to the side, taking a seat on an upturned barrel, his head tilting as he watched. Junhong figured he must have spent many long evenings here watching his lover train.

 

“No, My Lord.” Junhong responded, his hands shaking as he stood in the centre of the dusty square. The clothes he wore were nothing special. Brown pants and a similar robe, the things he often wore when he did not need to impress anyone in private.

 

“Then we will start simple.” Himchan said. He slipped the sword back into it's home, his fingers brushing over the hilts of weapons before he withdrew a dagger. The blade shone in the light and Junhong watched as the man held it out to him, “take it.” He said, “my brother wants you able to defend yourself.”

 

“Why... Why would I need to defend myself?” Junhong asked, glancing down at the dagger in his hand once he had taken it. It was heavier than he had expected, but the hilt was curved perfectly to fit in the palm of his hand and his fingers curled around it to grip tightly.

 

“Very few people have the privilege to sleep in the King's arms, Junhong-ah. I am sure many of the high officials would rest easier knowing the man our King took to bed was equipped with the ability to protect him if so necessary.” The man's eyes twinkled with amusement, “Just as it is important the man I take to my bed has the ability to protect me, is that not so, my love?”

 

Jongup lifted his gaze and tilted his head, “I am a trained guard, My Lord.” He said, “Though my training is minimal compared to yours. You can protect us tenfold better than I would ever be able to.”

 

Himchan chuckled and shook his head, not even sparing his lover a look. They did not linger and Himchan was soon launching into dictation, guiding Junhong through each movement, “Keep your arm forward, but relaxed. Do not tense your muscles. Your elbow needs to be slightly bent, yes just like that.”

 

Junhong attempted to follow every instruction, his teeth digging into his plush lip in concentration. Lunge, parry, withdraw. Himchan nodded his head, watching each movement. It was like a dance with complex footwork and a steady rhythm. Junhong found his body settling into the routine as he held out the dagger. Lunge, parry, withdraw.

 

“Don't lift your feet so high from the ground. Try and shuffle along the dirt, instead of taking steps.” He shuffled, felt the pebbles below his feet digging into the soles of the shoes he wore but he ignored it, lunge, parry withdraw. Himchan stood back now, no longer ghosting Junhong's movements and instead simply surveying. He called instruction, but kept his distance and Junhong did not notice Yongguk watching him from the door, only focusing on each movement of his body, the push of his dagger forward, the twitch of his wrist to deflect, the shuffle of his body away.

 

“Good.” Himchan said, nodding. He stepped up closer when Junhong stilled, “Now we can practice. I will meet your movements with my own and I will make as if to attack you. Remember, when I lunge, you parry, when I withdraw, you lunge, alright?”

 

Junhong nodded, swallowing as sweat beaded on his brow. Himchan pressed forward and he dodged the movement, his eyes focused on the man before him and nothing else. It was his turn and he lunged, making a careless stabbing motion but Himchan easily side-stepped it, “You need to remain calm. Do not allow yourself to overthink and get hasty. That will get you killed.”

 

“Okay...” Junhong panted. He licked his lower lip and got into position, his arm holding his dagger before him. This time, when Himchan lunged, he rose his knife to meet it, the metal clanging together in an echoing sound. The General began to speak, but Junhong couldn't hear him. All he heard was the ringing of metal on metal in his ears.

 

His fingers released his dagger and it dropped to the ground, clattering against the pebbled stone. Slowly, a hand lifted, grasping at his throat as it tightened and tightened and he couldn't breathe, leaving him gasping for breath. He turned his unseeing eyes around himself, the courtyard was closing in.

 

“Junhong?” A familiar voice called but it sounded so far away. No one could help him, nothing could save him. Hands lifted and covered his ears as he closed his eyes and hummed the familiar tune of a soothing lullaby – one his mother used to sing to him. He could smell fish from the mornings catch in the crates he knelt between, he could feel the mud and muck caked on his clothing and his skin. He could hear the sound of metal on metal ringing through his skull and the penetrating fear that had him wanting to vomit.

 

Warm hands pressed on top of his own that covered his ears and he was being brought in against a chest. Smooth silk brushed his skin and the sounds and smells and sensations began to slip away. He could hear the voice again, warm and familiar, “You are okay, Junhong-ah. You are safe.” It said, but he shook his head, desperate to hide from the world. He continued to hum the lullaby. It was the one his mother would sing to him when he awoke from a nightmare to calm him down. Nothing bad could happen to him when he heard it, nothing could touch him. “Nothing is going to harm you, Junhong-ah. You are safe.” The voice repeated and slowly his panicked breaths slowed and his lungs opened.

 

For the first time in what felt like an age, oxygen flooded his lungs and his eyes snapped open, gasping for breath. He looked up and into the black eyes that were so familiar to him by now. Guarded, powerful and Junhong thought he could drown in them.

 

There was something unreadable in Yongguk's expression, but his palm was warm against Junhong's cheek and the pad of is thumb gentle as he smoothed it just below the courtesan's eye to brush aside a lingering tear. Junhong had not realised he was crying. He turned his head and glanced down to the dagger that lay in the dirt, his breaths still ragged as his body fought to relax, “I-I'm sorry...” he stuttered out to no one in particular.

 

Yongguk withdrew his hands from Junhong's face and his eyes dropped to focus on the way the boy's hands clenched and unclenched in fists at his sides, “That is enough training for today.” He said, lips pursed as Himchan bent forward to lift the weapon from the dirt. The sound of the metal scraping against the gravel had Junhong flinching and a shiver ran through his body, but Yongguk kept him grounded, “Jongup-ah.”

 

“Your Majesty.” Jongup crossed the courtyard, standing before the King with a concerned gaze lingering upon his friend.

 

“Take Junhong back to his chamber. I will have Hwayah come and visit him to prepare for the celebrations.” Yongguk said and all too soon his hands were withdrawing from Junhong, the boy barely holding in a soft whimper at the disappearance of his touch.

 

Without a word, the two made it slowly from the courtyard. Junhong felt tired, his hands still trembling in the aftermath of his panic and he was thankful that Jongup was not pushing for him to talk. They rounded a corner and slipped between the crowds that bustled through the halls, carrying food and decorations to prepare the great hall for the celebrations.

 

Junhong had heard mention of this great festival, but he had never seen something so grand unfold. He stepped aside so that two men could carry large stacks of folded silk in an array of exquisite colours, the fabric shining in the light. Jongup looked unphased, simply ducking to dodge some decorations being carted over a servant's shoulder. Thankfully, however, as they neared the kitchens the crowds began to dissipate and they cut through the familiarity of the kitchens.

 

“So how did you end up in Huingol?” Came a woman's voice, coy and flirtatious. Junhong and Jongup blinked as Daehyun came into view, arranging food upon a plate as a maid lingered at his side. Her accent was northern, and her gaze fixed on the man before her, “The South is very different to the Valley.”

 

Daehyun sighed and went still, his lips twitching downwards into a frown, “My parents were killed in a tragic accident when I was eight.” He said and his gaze focused on his work, “I became the charge of a local Lord, and I followed him here. After his death, however, one of the elderly cooks was kind enough to take me in.”

 

Jongup rolled his eyes as Junhong frowned in confusion – that was not the story the cook had told him. Daehyun's gaze lifted and he smirked as he caught sight of those before him, “The King's Courtesan and the Prince's assistant coming to visit me. What an honour.” He said, causing the maid at his side to start with surprise. Her gaze lingered on them, before she was quickly stepping away and leaving them alone.

 

Jongup tilted his head to the side, “Who was she?”

 

“One of Lord Kwon's servants.” Daehyun hummed as he dusted his hands together, a smirk curving his lips, “It is always useful to know faces around the palace.”

 

“Why did you tell her a lie about where you are from?” Junhong voiced before he could stop himself. Daehyun's gaze lifted to fix on the younger and a chuckle rolled from his throat.

 

“Did I tell her a lie? What makes you so certain what I told _you_ was the truth?” He pushed the plate away from himself and quirked an eyebrow, “It's more fun to lie.”

 

“And it's also fun to befriend foreign servants?” Jongup asked with a frown. Daehyun just shrugged and gave him an amused look.

 

“What do I know of politics?” He asked, “I'm just a cook.”

 

Something that glinted in Daehyun's eye made Junhong think he was once again telling a lie.

 

*

 

The feast of Noeul was upon them. The celebrations took place on the night of the first full moon of winter, as the sun was setting over the Valley. Junhong had watched in the two days proceeding how ribbons and lanterns were set up across the courtyards and through the Palace while an air of excitement settled throughout all. The kitchens were bustling with activity to prepare the food for their guests, while performers and entertainers practiced for the festivities.

 

In the late afternoon, Junhong was standing in the centre of his chamber, two seamstresses assisting him to dress. He wore long, crimson pants and a sheer tunic of blushed apricot that exposed just enough of his chest to tease at any observer who focused a moment too long. His raven hair was styled simply, and the veil settled once again across his nose to obscure his mouth from sight while his eyes were lined with black kohl. Yongguk had chosen for Junhong to remain barefoot that night, with a simple gold chain encircling his ankle in delicate decoration that matched seamlessly with the band around his upper arm.

 

“You look beautiful.” Hwayah clapped her hands as she watched from the doorway. She, too, was dressed in bright colours, her hanbok red and orange and her hair pinned back with gold. Junhong bowed his head to her and curled his fingers together at his front while the servants finished off decorating his body. He had eaten not long before he had bathed, knowing that he could not lift his veil before the guests.

 

“You truly are the Jewel of Huingol.” Yongguk's voice caught him by surprise. He turned his head and his eyes landed on the King as he approached behind Hwayah donned in a robe of golden silk. His hair was tied back, and a crown sat atop his head. For a moment, Junhong forgot how to breathe, even as he dropped to his knees and pressed both palms flat on the floor to bow to his King. Yongguk reached out for him and smiled, “Rise, Junhong-ah. Tonight, we celebrate.”

 

Voices could be heard as they passed through the palace, the rumble of conversation. Servants rushed through decorated coridoors, while Lords and Ladies in their superb dress slid through doors and into the waiting Great Hall. As Yongguk steered him into the doorway, the crowed hummed in appreciation of his elegance and exquisite attire.

 

Junhong was overwhelmed by the beauty that filled the hall. Each guest was dressed like the sunset, while lanterns and fine silks decorated the roof and walls. Silk pillows were set around the tables, while musicians gathered in the centre to entertain. Yongguk took his place at the head of the table, with Himchan to his right and Junhong took his regular position kneeling upon a silk pillow behind him.

 

It was then, however, that the doors once again opened and their visitors from the North entered. Lord Kwon was donned in a black robe, while his General brother remained in his formal uniform. The Lady Seonmi followed, her own Hanbok black and a rich purple that had her fair skin and red lips strikingly enhanced. They took their place to the King's left, settling down and looking around them with curious gazes, “I have never heard of a Horse being taken so seriously.” Lord Kwon said, his brother emitting a laugh at the words.

 

Yongguk's lips curved upwards into a tight smile, “It pleases me that Huingol offers you such new experiences, Lord Kwon.” He said, a hand lifting as he gestured for the food to be served.

 

The man chuckled and shrugged a single shoulder. Nonchalant. Rude. “Every experience I have had in this city has been new, Your Majesty.” He said, watching as trays of food were lay out before each person and the celebrations commenced.

 

The group of musicians sat in the centre of the room, playing their instruments in up-beat tunes, while the thrum of conversation overcame the room. Yongguk spoke to his brother, the two of them laughing as they drank from their goblets. Everyone in the room loosened up once they submitted their minds to the calming drink, but was the Northern guests who remained bitter and silent, only conversing with one another until the Lord turned his head.

 

“My brother tells me you play the Gayageum beautifully, Junhong-ssi.” He said. His eyes were curiously surveying the boy, trailing over his body as though he were another of the city's decorations, rather than human.

 

“Your brother is correct.” Yongguk confirmed, his hand lifting to brush over Junhong's exposed bicep, his thumb rubbing over the gold band. The boy leant into the King's touch, his eyes closing briefly, before they once again were trained on the man who spoke to him.  
  


“I know Lord Kang took pride in your performances, and beauty.” The veil across Junhong's mouth concealed his scowl at the mention of his past master – a man who was not spoken of often, “It is a shame I am not able to see such beauty with my own eyes.”

 

“Lord Kang is dead.” Yongguk said, “Killed by your brother, and Junhong is no longer displayed as a trophy.”

 

“Yet he is still kept as one.” Lord Kwon hummed, lifting food with his fingers and placing it in his mouth. He leant back, his elbows resting upon his knees as he sat cross legged upon the pillow. Seonmi watched in amusement, though remained silent as she sat between her father and uncle. It was unsettling to have the three of them together donned in black as the guests made the hall shine with Noeul's sunset.

 

“I remember hearing my dear Lord Kang boast of your dancing.” She finally voiced, lifting her own goblet to her mouth, “Maybe you would be so kind, Your Majesty, as to have your treasure dance for us.” Her eyes glanced to the King through her lashes, blood red lips curving into a smile, “I would love to see such movement with my own eyes.”

 

There was something sinister to Junhong about the way her sickeningly sweet smile lingered as she gazed to their King. Yongguk had little reason to refuse such a request, and his eyes flicked to settle on his courtesan, brushing fingers gently along the length of his neck in thought. His free hand lifted and he gestured for the music to cease which caused the room to settle into a sudden silence.

 

“Play something slow... Something my jewel can dance to.” He commanded and the musicians nodded. Yongguk leant in and brushed his lips over the shell of Junhong's ear. The touch was gone before he could respond, his gaze lifting to watch the King before he rose from the floor to enter the circle of tables.

 

The stone floor was cool beneath his naked feet, but the smoothness was familiar. Music started with an experimental tap to the stretched skin of a Janggu. The rhythm built and Junhong closed his eyes to simply feel each beat as it thrummed through his body and filtered into his limbs. Strings of a Gayageum were plucked, and the low, airy hum of a Tongso slithered between.

 

Junhong spread his arms wide and tilted his head down, his feet beginning to slide over the tiled floor. He could feel the music filtering through his skin, into his bones and muscles, forcing him into movement with arms raised high. Each muscle twitched and flexed as he spun, the soft silks of his crimson attire flowing like the ocean onto sand with every fluid movement of his body.

 

The party watched, transfixed as he kicked out a leg with pointed toes, arm twisting as though he were taking flight. He felt like he was as air rushed around his body and whipped his hair across his face. He felt as though the music could carry him high into the sky and deliver him from all the pain and fear he had felt since the day he had lost everything. Soft clouds wrapped around him and warm sun touched his skin as the music carried him higher, further away from this world. Every twist of a limb, curl of a finger had stars glinting behind his eyes and beneath the modest veil he wore he was smiling.

 

Maybe if he reached out just far enough, he could touch one. Maybe if he danced long enough, he could become one.

 

The music slowed and with the final drawn out thump on the deep skin of the Janggu it ceased and Junhong fell still. Two feet pressed flat to stone, arms falling to settle by his sides. He was panting, his heartbeat loud as his blood screamed in his ears, muting the sound of rupturing applause and calls of praise but as his eyes opened, he saw Yongguk smile and he knew he did not desire to be a star that flickered in the night sky. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

 

Seonmi clapped her hands and laughed, “My my, Lord Kang did not exaggerate your talents, Junhong-ssi.” She said, watching as the boy stepped back to his seat and lowered himself to be once again cross legged on the floor. He bowed his head respectfully to her in thanks and once again voiced nothing.

 

“Junhong's talents cannot be exaggerated.” Yongguk's tone was void of emotion, but his arm extended to beckon the courtesan to his side. Junhong pressed close against him with no hesitation, eager to curl up in the secure embrace of his King, “They can only be described. His skills in music and movement are a blessing given from the Gods above. Something we must treasure in the courts of Huingol.”

 

“Who would have known such God given _treasure_ would come from a mucky little fishing town that could not afford to paid it's taxes.” Lord Kwon hummed, chuckling to himself, “Maybe the village would have survived its eradication if only this treasure were offered in place of tax. Lords across the Peninsula would have paid a very pretty sum of Gold for the likes of this _talent_ you keep as a prize within your walls. Though I guess it matters little. Lord Kang managed to rid himself of bothersome peasants and take home a little reward for himself in the process.”

 

Junhong's entire body tensed, his fingers curling tightly into fists in the cloth of his own crimson pants. Yongguk rose a hand and began to card his fingers slowly through the black strands of his thick hair while the boy fought down the urge to be sick. It was Himchan, however, who spoke up. The General pushed his plate away from himself to instead lift his bronze goblet, bringing it to his lips, “Murdering an entire village is not ridding ones self of a bother, Lord Kwon.” He said, brow arching, “It is committing a crime against the country, and against the crown.” Jongup shifted in his position standing behind Himchan and his right hand settled easily on the scabbard at his hip as he watched the tension twist upon his Lord's face.

 

Lord Kwon scoffed and shook his head, “Against the crown? Peasants are peasants, what difference does it make to the crown if one village is repopulated-”

 

“Murdered, Lord Kwon.” Yongguk cut the man off, “The King's duty is to protect those who live in his Kingdom. It is to protect them from fear and violence so that all may live together in harmony. The murder of an entire village is not just an attack on the innocent, an attack on women and children, it is an attack on the country, an attack on Huingol, and an attack on the crown. Lord Kang was killed in battle by your brother, but if he was not, if he had been captured, the full weight of the Joseon Peninsula would have been brought upon him and he would pay a price for every man, woman and child who's life he took, just as would be the punishment for any Lord who abused his power to take what he deemed was his right.”

 

The words sent a chill through Junhong's body and silence settled through the hall. All turned and watched as Lord Kwon was reprimanded so publicly by the young King. Rage was building behind Lord Kwon's eyes, his lips turned down into a scowl yet he did not speak. Instead, Seonmi folded her hands into her lap, “Your Majesty, I believe it is getting late. I will retire for the evening.” She said, bowing her head to him with a careful gaze, “I thank you very much for the invitation to such a grand celebration.”

 

Yongguk fixed the young Heiress with cold regard and without responding, he stood. The rich gold of his robes fell around him as though he himself were the rising sun and a hand extended to beckon Junhong to rise by his side, “I trust you will find your way to your quarters.” He said simply and turned to leave the hall. Junhong followed close behind him, the sound of his bare feet smacking against the tiled floor accompanying the soft whispers of Yongguk's clothing until the two of them disappeared together into the secluded and empty halls of their wing.

 

Yongguk did not speak a word, stepping past Junhong's bedchamber and instead pushing open the wide door into his own. Three maids moved under Hwayah's command, lighting red and orange lanterns around the room, causing each wall to glow with the warmth of an artificial sunset, “Leave us.” Yongguk said as soon as he entered the room.

 

“Your Majesty, there are two lanterns left to-” Hwayah began, her voice steady, but she was cut off by a harsh grunt.

 

“I said, leave us!” The King snapped, his brow furrowed as he gestured pointedly towards the door. The maids startled and each of them bowed their heads before withdrawing, the heavy door clicking closed behind them.

 

Junhong stood in the centre of the room, uncertain of what was expected of him. His hands were folded at his front, his spine straight while he watched, unmoving, as Yongguk moved across the room, his fingers brushing with surprising tenderness over the dyed paper of a lantern. Silence stretched between them and soon the King was undoing the knot of his golden robe, slipping it from his body to reveal the deep navy under-garments. He easily shrugged them off and tossed them onto a divan beneath his window, remaining only in the simple white pants he wore beneath each floor-length robe. The courtesan watched as the King took a seat at the edge of his large bed, beginning to slowly take off the rings that decorated his elegant fingers.

 

Slowly, Junhong moved from where he stood to instead climb onto the bed behind Yongguk. The mattress had been layered with furs atop the regular silk and cotton blankets once winter had set in and they felt soft and warm beneath his thinly clothed knees as he slid to sit upon them on the bed. His eyes focused on the naked skin before him, his hands raising to gently brush along the slopes of Yongguk's shoulders before he dipped his head down to follow each touch with a kiss from beneath his veil.

 

What he did not expect was for Yongguk's strong, muscled shoulders to tense at the touch, and for his hand to raise and his fingers to curl around Junhong's wrist to halt its tender touches. The boy lifted his mouth and licked his dry lower lip, “Stop.” Yongguk said.

 

“Your Majesty?” Junhong asked softly, curious if there was something else the King required of him. He knew the man needed to relax, he knew he had been angered in the great hall and he knew it was his duty to soothe him.

 

“What Lord Kwon spoke of angered me.” He said needlessly, his head turning back to focus his gaze out the window.

 

“Maybe I could provide help calming you, Yongguk-hyung...” Junhong's voice was soft and he did not dare to touch the powerful man, not after he had been instructed to cease his touches.

 

“I do not wish to hurt you.” Was the King's tense response. Junhong watched the way his fingers curled into a fist against his thigh before they relaxed again, repeating the motion in a slow rhythm as he focused his gaze elsewhere. The courtesan swallowed and sat back on the fur, his breath fanning out against Yongguk's spine.

 

“I know you wouldn't hurt me.” He said, voice low after he paused for a lingering moment.

 

“You are too trusting.” Yongguk bit back, his head turning sharply. He still couldn't look back directly at his courtesan and his gaze stopped to focus instead on the grey furs upon his bed, his teeth clenching together as Junhong watched him with a careful eye.

 

“No... I'm not.” He said. Of course the King knew that. Junhong had a better right than anyone to never trust again, yet here he was, alone with a man who held twice, three times his physical strength. Offering himself so completely.

 

“Undress.” The King commanded in a harsh voice and Junhong stood from the bed and did as instructed. He started with his sheer top, then followed it with the crimson pants, folding each with care and leaving them atop where the King had discarded his own clothing. Next, he lifted both hands to begin at tugging the string that fastened his veil across his mouth, the gold chain around his ankle glinting in the light just as his arm band did. “Stop... Come, sit...”

 

The boy dropped his arms back to his sides and walked forward, lowering himself to sit astride the King's lap. Yongguk's eyes reminded him of an imminent storm brewing over the ocean. They were black, formidable and unpredictable but his fingers were gentle as they undid the fastenings and tossed the veil aside, “You are beautiful.” The words came out in a growl, fingers pressing and gripping at his soft skin, “Do you understand why I veil you, Junhong-ah?”

 

“To show to whom I belong, Yongguk-hyung.” The courtesan responded, he could hear his heart beating in his chest.

 

“I do not trust Kwon... I do not trust him in my palace, and I do not trust him with anything that I value.” Yongguk's voice had a gruffness as his lips ghosted over an exposed collarbone, sending a shiver running through Junhong's body. “The veil will protect you... The veil will conceal you and have you safe from his prying eyes and his brother's hunger.”

 

“I am yours.” Junhong breathed, watching the way Yongguk's eyes traced over each line and detail of his body as though drinking him in, inch by inch. A palm slid slowly along his spine, another around his middle, keeping his body stationary and secure in the embrace.

 

“Never...” Yongguk began when finally he pressed his forehead to Junhong's naked shoulder. He paused to consider his words, allowing himself a moment to briefly appreciate the luxurious scent of Junhong's naked skin, “Never again will another man touch you.” He continued, bringing Junhong closer in against his chest, “I will never allow harm to come to you. I will never allow you to be taken from the city, or from my keep. I will never allow anyone to touch you like _he_ touched you. Like _he_ hurt you.”

 

Junhong did not have to wonder who the King referred to and he swallowed, feeling an unknown emotion swelling up through him as he listened to such words washing over him. He did not trust his voice to reply and instead wrapped his King into his arms, cradling his head to his breast and allowing his nose to brush through soft, dark hair.

 

“You will never be sold or bargained for.” Yongguk grit out through clenched teeth, “You cannot be traded for Gold and I refuse to hear a man speak of you as though you should be or as though any price in the world would be enough for you.”

 

“Yongguk-Hyung...” Junhong breathed softly, his fingers carding through the black hair atop Yongguk's head. He easily worked out any tangles and smoothed the strands over the curve of his scalp, exhaling a soft breath against him, “I am yours. Until the day I die if you so wish it.”

 

Yongguk finally lifted his head, his brow furrowed. “Do not sleep in your room, Junhong-ah. I want you here, in my bed each night.”

 

The courtesan felt the words sink into him and he shivered at the warmth that spread through his chest and nodded, “I won't, Yongguk-hyung. There is no better place for me than by your side.” He murmured. As Junhong looked again into his King's eyes, he saw that the storm had cleared. The boy found himself opening his mouth, words building in his stomach and climbing up his throat, laying upon his tongue, “Yongguk-Hyung...” He began just as the King's full lips found his throat, laying a line of tender kisses upon the soft skin, cherishing every mole and mark.

 

“Mmm?” He hummed in question as his hands began to wonder, palms pressing into the warmth of Junhong's naked back and bringing the boy's hips closer to his own. Junhong closed his eyes and allowed himself to simply feel. Yongguk's fingers were adoring and his lips worshiping as he praised every familiar inch of flesh with kisses and slow slides of his warm tongue. In one tender movement, the King guided him back to sprawl naked across the bed atop the soft furs and as Yongguk kicked aside his pants and guided Junhong's thighs apart, the courtesan swallowed the valuable words before they climbed forth from his mouth and chose instead to feel the King's love wash over him like an incoming tide.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a posting schedule?! When I started this story, I decided I would post every Monday and yet here I am posting on a Wednesday night- when I posted last week on a Friday night? Crazy.  
> In truth, this week is just insane. I am working crazy hours and then I am going to see B.A.P live in Sydney this Friday (holyshitholyshitholyshit), but with everything happening this chapter wouldn't be possible to be posted on Monday- so I chose days early rather than days late.
> 
> The only words I have to translate here are:  
> Janggu - a traditional style of Korean drum (for those unaware, Himchan actually has an extensive background in Korean traditional music and one of the many instruments he excels in is the Janggu. I would suggest having a cheekie google and watching some of the beautiful videos of him playing.)  
> Tongsu - 'Tongsu' is the traditional/ancient spelling of Tungsu (I chose to use the old spelling because period fic ayo), and it is a notched Bamboo flute.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Chapter 8 will probably be posted in the first weekend of June (sorry!)  
> xo


	8. Chapter 8

Yongguk did not want Junhong to leave his side. Lord Kwon and his daughter were determined to make their presence in the palace clear to all. They had labelled themselves as guests of the King, and even after their humiliation at the feast for Noeul, they were desperate to act as though they had some kind of status in the palace.

 

Junhong was content, however. The morning after the feast, he had awoken secure in Yongguk's arms. The sensation of their naked bodies pressed together so intimately in sleep was growing familiar, and the feeling of Yongguk's heart thumping below his ear gave a new meaning to the word _home._ When the King had awoken, he had sent for a breakfast to be brought for them in bed, and he had taken great pleasure in feeding Junhong the valley delicacies. There was something so beautiful about the way Junhong's mouth opened as he awaited familiar fingers placing fruit or grain upon his tongue. Every flavour was something new, and even after months living in the palace, Huingol still seemed so foreign and exotic.

 

Through the morning, Junhong had sat dutifully by Yongguk's side in his study, watching as the man wrote upon papers, or spoke to Lords and Generals about anything and everything that went on across the Peninsula. When they were left alone, however, Junhong would allow himself to relax and settle into the privacy and the burgundy robe that clothed his body. It was his favourite of all those the King had gifted him. He gently fiddled with the hem of Yongguk's royal blue attire, humming a soft tune to himself as he did so. The King could often go hours in silence but he never minded because they were comfortable and Junhong knew he shouldn't be a distraction when Yongguk worked.

 

“Your voice sounds like the Ocean.” Yongguk said. He dipped his brush into ink and painted it again over paper. A circle, a line, a corner. Junhong blinked in surprise and fell silent, he had not noticed his own song.

 

“The Ocean is far more wondrous, Yongguk-Hyung.” Junhong heard himself replying.

 

“You underestimate your own wonder.” The King did not lift his gaze from the paper before him and Junhong did not argue, simply shifting in closer and settling his head against a broad shoulder.

 

The day arched and slid into afternoon. Yongguk had moved from his study into his throne where he sat perched to listen to all who came for an audience. Junhong was curled lazily at his feet, seated upon a luxurious pillow and with his head leaning gently against Yongguk's knee. The veil Yongguk wished for him to wear in public was secured easily across his nose and his legs were curled beneath him. He did not understand much of what was said, and somewhere over the afternoon he had lost focus completely.

 

Lords and Peasants alike came from the city to stand before Yongguk. Some wished for the King to settle their disputes over land or property, others wished for their King's blessing on marriage or a child, or the beginning of a new business.

 

A landowner and his son bowed their way from the throne room and a cleric came alongside Yongguk to look over a piece of parchment. There were many more waiting and Junhong turned his head to yawn, hoping the action would be concealed by the combination of his veil, and Yongguk's knee. Familiar fingers threaded through his hair, and Yongguk emitted a warm chuckle, “Are you tired, my Jewel?” He asked, pushing Junhong's hair from his eyes.

 

A flush crept upon his cheeks and he lifted his gaze, “I am sorry, Your Majesty.” He said, bowing his head in respect and submission to the powerful man before him. Yongguk sighed and stroked gently along the shell of his ear, then down and beneath his veil to trace the seam of his lips which parted under his touch.

 

“You do not need to apologise for exhaustion, Junhong-ah.” The King smiled, “such a young beauty as you, I am sure you find such official things tedious. You may return to my chamber to rest, and I will have food brought to you.”

 

The boy looked up into Yongguk's eyes and he bowed his head in thanks, yet hesitated a moment, “Your Majesty...” he said, “May I also have my Gayageum brought to me? I should like to practice so I may play for you later.”

 

“I shall send for her, Junhong-ah.” Yongguk responded, curling his fingers into his courtesan's hair. He leant forward and guided Junhong's head back to press his lips to his forehead, not wishing to lift his veil and reveal his face, “Rest.”

 

The courtesan stood and bowed low to his King, then silently walked from the throne room. The halls were not as busy as they had been in the lead up to the feast, Junhong assumed many were still recovering from the festivities and the flow of drink. A few servants pottered about, dismantling ribbons and lanterns that hung heavy against the wall in decoration, folding them neatly to save them for the feast in a year's time. Junhong twined his fingers at his front and turned a corner, almost walking into the slender figure of Kwon Seonmi, donned in a deep blue that reminded Junhong of the darkest night.

 

Immediately, the courtesan bowed to the lady before him, his eyes remaining on her as she fixed him with an assessing look, “My my... Our King letting his favourite toy loose through the palace.” Her voice was sickly sweet but it held a bite to it. Junhong surveyed her fair skin and red lips, noticing the way her eyes trailed over every inch of his exposed skin. She reminded him of a white swan, beautiful and graceful but always ready to attack.

 

Junhong did not speak, merely standing tall before her and willing for her to step from his way. A hand extended and fingertips brushed over the front of his robes, then traced the side of his neck, “I can see why he keeps you here.” Seonmi said, her dark eyes sharp and knowing, “Your beauty is quite something, even if he keeps it hidden. Your former master, Lord Kwon, was once a very fond friend of my Father's. He often wrote to me about his Southern beauty, a diamond he had discovered between muck and blood.

 

“I had wished to come and see you for myself, but his alliance no longer benefitted my father and those ties were cut. Shame, really. I would have loved to see you at your full potential, rather than the coddled brat the King keeps you as.” Junhong was standing still, wishing he could push her hand aside, wishing he could tell her to stop talking about the vile man who still came for him in his nightmares. “It astounds me that after all these years of rejecting offer after offer of companionship, courtesans, slaves, the King settles on you. He was offered the hand of a Chinese princess, he was given beautiful exotic women and men alike as _presents_ from previous missions off the peninsula and yet it is a southern whore that takes his fancy.”

 

A shiver went down Junhong's spine as she spoke, her fingers easily dipping beneath the shoulder of his robe, pulling it back and revealing a trail of red marks on his skin, “And he is eager to mark his possession, I see. He doesn't want any other man or woman laying their fingers upon you, he doesn't even want them to see your face. How like his father that he falls into the pleasures of a courtesan rather than those of a wife, yet it is unfortunate that unlike his father's whore, you cannot bare him a bastard child to attach yourself to him like that Kim dirt did.” She sighed and withdrew from him, but he remained stoic and unmoving. Seonmi was getting frustrated by his silence, her lips twisting as she pulled back completely, “It matters little. He will be married to me by the time Spring awakens, and then you will be cast aside, sold to whatever Lord will pay the prettiest price for your used body.”

 

Finally, Junhong tensed, his eyes flicking to follow her movements. She noticed, however, the way his shoulders tightened and a cruel smile parted her lips, “Oh now _that_ got a reaction.” She hummed, “Is it the thought of him casting you aside that has you so distasteful or is it the idea of him marrying me?” She glanced down and saw the way Junhong's fingers curled into his palm and she laughed. “I see, I see... Jealous of him with another, how cute. I am sure His Majesty makes you feel special and loved after all your years laying naked and used on my dear Lord Kang's floor for all to see, but do you really think that will last forever? My sweet little Junhong, how naïve you are.”

 

Junhong could feel bile rising in his throat and his eyes finally dropped to the floor as his jaw tensed listening to her words drag over him and rip into his flesh, “He is the King and you are a whore. He will fuck you and treat you like you are his precious boy but you won't be young and beautiful forever, Junhong. Your body won't be lithe and soft, nor will it always be as pleasurable for him.” She leant in closer, her hand raising to brush over his concealed cheek, “it is only a matter of time before he throws you out onto the streets for you to beg for food, and then what is left of your body will be snatched up by whatever peasant brute will have you.

 

“You would have been lucky to be taken into my uncle's home. You would have been better used as his than you are playing pet for the King who is hiding such a beautiful face out of his own selfishness... To think such a _powerful_ man would want to protect a worthless, pitiful whore.” Seonmi curled her fingers into the veil he wore and her lips twisted, but before she could tear it from his head a cold voice spoke up from behind her.

 

“Any man would wish to protect an innocent from the tear of your talons, Lady Kwon.” Himchan said, his hand raising to curl his fingers around her wrist, his cold eyes staring into hers. “Jealousy has you looking even more vile than you were the day Hell rejected you.”

 

“Aah the Bastard Prince.” Seonmi said, pulling her hand from his hold, “You speak just as sweetly as I remembered. How gallant of you to protect your brother's toy, and yet how unfortunate that you have been forced into such a role. Yongguk always was the favourite, wasn't he? He always did get the best play things. Precious little _legitimate_ Yongguk.”

 

“You seem to forget that you are the guest of the King, Lady Kwon.” Himchan bit back at her as he shifted to stand between her form and Junhong's own, “My brother will be displeased to hear of your disrespect.”

 

“Oh Himchan-ssi I am sure you are just misunderstanding.” She bat her eyelashes and laughed, “Dear young Junhong and I were merely talking. I would of course assure his Majesty, your brother, of this if there were any complications. I was speaking fondly of his past master, whom I am sure Junhong must be mourning. ”

 

“Ah yes, Lord Kang, whom your uncle killed I seem to remember.” Himchan shook his head, his palm pressing flat to the small of Junhong's back.

 

“When the crown gives orders, one must follow.” Seonmi smiled.

 

“I seem to remember the Kwon clan being unable to follow orders before. I remember your father insisting on his military advancements to the North against the Crown's advice. I also remember him crawling back into your city to lick his wounds and beg for my father to send him aid.” Seonmi's lips were curling, her gaze sharpening, “The crown has done many things for you and your family, Lady Kwon. Do not make the King regret such kindness.” Himchan stepped past Seonmi, “Yongguk wishes for me to continue your weaponry instruction. You never know when you may come in contact with a snake.” The man spoke before Junhong had the chance, ignoring the presence of their visitor to instead guide Junhong through the large Bronze doors and into the private wing.

 

Junhong watched the elder man for the briefest of moments, before he allowed himself to speak from behind his veil, “Why does he require me to be skilled with a weapon?” Junhong asked as he stepped into the King's bedchamber. His Gayageum had been laid out upon the bed, encased in her crimson wrappings of silk and he felt somewhat soothed by her presence.

 

“Because I cannot always be by his side, Junhong-ah. He trusts you, and he wishes for you to be able to protect yourself, and any one else with whom you might be, including him.” Himchan spoke, watching as Junhong lifted his hand to undo his veil, setting it aside and licking his lower lip.

 

“I would never allow harm to come to him.” He insisted and something in Himchan's eyes softened. He could see the determination and seriousness that lingered upon Junhong's features. It would be overwhelming, to go from being a decoration in a Lord's halls to being such an intimate partner to the King. He was sure Junhong understood little of Valley politics and in his naïveté would not know whom he could trust.

 

“I know you wouldn't, Junhong. But I still need for you to be trained.” Himchan said, his expression serious even though his eyes were understanding.

 

“No one... Has ever wished to protect me before.” Junhong said, choosing his words carefully, “Not since my mother and father died. An injury or an insult never mattered but now... Here... I am kept safe. I am protected not out of jealousy but out of care. His Majesty would never allow any harm to come to me and I would never allow harm to touch him, either. I wish to protect him.”

 

Himchan stepped closer, his fingers fiddling with some of the decorations that were set upon the King's furniture, “And you are so certain you would be able to do anything to protect him?” He asked, “You are not versed with a weapon, you are not literate. What makes you think you are capable of doing anything to benefit his majesty?”

 

Junhong shifted in his seat and felt his lips twisting, his head turning to cast his gaze aside. The words were building but he couldn't figure out how to say them, or what there even was to say. Suddenly, he opened his mouth, “When the King's mother died... When you were born...” Junhong's mouth felt dry as he asked the one question he needed answered, “Your mother, My Lord... Did your father love her? Did your father cast her aside for other women, or did he love her... Did he keep her as his own?”

 

Himchan looked surprised by the question until his brows furrowed and another unrecognisable emotion settled in. For a moment, Junhong thought he might be struck, he thought the man would snap at him for being so prying and rude, “and why does it matter to you how my Father felt for my Mother?” He asked, lifting up a bronze stallion that sat idle upon the King's dresser, “ _love_ is not often an emotion that gets between a Concubine and her King.”

 

The younger swallowed and looked down. He twined his fingers together in his lap, looking at the youthful plane of his skin along his palms and his wrists. There was a safety that his youth brought him, and he had long ago learned to use his own beauty to his advantage, but Seonmi's harsh reminder had his focus lingering on his age, and the inevitability of time. Junhong was not sure what scared him most: being alone, or being without Yongguk. “I'm sorry, My Lord. I didn't mean to be prying.”

 

The General turned to linger a questioning gaze upon him, “You are afraid my brother will cast you aside. You are asking about my mother because you wish to know if it is possible for a King to love a whore, and you _care_ Junhong-ah, because you are in love with Yongguk.”

 

Junhong's gaze lifted and he was shaking his head in denial, his palms feeling sweaty, “No... No I didn't mean it like that.” He attempted, but Himchan just chuckled and took a slow step forward, his hand extending to brush gently across Junhong's cheek. There was something gentle in his eyes, something warm but the orbs were heavy with regret.

 

“My Father was not in love with my Mother. My Father loved Yongguk's mother, no matter how many courtesan's he chose to take. She was his everything, his _jewel_ as he caller her, just as Yongguk calls you.” His voice was tender, “having said that he cared for my mother. He could have cast her out into the streets or kept her as a slave but instead he promoted her to a position of power and he trusted her to raise both of his sons together and neither Yongguk nor I would be who we are if it was not for her.”

 

“Does she love him?” Junhong asked with a soft frown, but Himchan's eyes were growing sad.

 

“I don't know. She never told me, she never wanted for me to know. She had two sons because of him, and for her I believe that was enough. She loved Yongguk and I more than all else, and that is what gives her joy.” The General stepped back and looked to him, “Your future may seem uncertain, Junhong-ah, but do not allow Seonmi's viciousness to deter you. There is so much yet for you to learn about the world, about the palace and about my brother. Trust him.”

 

“I do...” Junhong murmured and Himchan bowed his head.

 

“I will leave you here. No doubt Yongguk is sending someone to keep you company, or even he himself will arrive and be convinced I am sweet talking you.” He chuckled, and a familiar accented voice came from the hallway.

 

“You do have a habit of stealing all of his favourites.” Daehyun grinned at the general before stepping over the threshold. Even though he carried with him a plate of food, he was not wearing a cooks uniform, instead in robes of jet black that hugged close to his skin. They looked expensive, and Junhong was tracing over each delicate edge with curiosity.

 

“Ah Jung Daehyun-ah.” Himchan greeted, his lips curving into a warm smile, “As I should have expected. I shall leave you in capable hands here, Junhong-ah.”

 

“Thank you, General Kim.” Junhong voiced as he stood to bow. General Kim left the two alone in the bedroom, Daehyun looking around curiously once he set the food upon the bed. He hummed in thought, his lips spreading into a thoughtful smile.

 

“I have not been in here for a long while.” Daehyun admitted, brushing a hand over the windowsill, tutting as he noticed the dust that had gathered there. Junhong watched him, his lips turned down into a frown. Daehyun was curious in his assessment of the room, but it was obvious he was familiar with it. There was so much the courtesan did not understand about the cook, where he came from, what his role was in the King's life.

 

What reason would a cook have to be in the King's bedchamber? How did he grow so dear to the royal brothers that he could speak to them with such informality? Junhong swallowed and drew his legs beneath him. Himchan's words rung in his ears and he knew they were the truth, _there is so much yet for you to learn._ He was stumbling over half-truths and partly explained confusion and all of it was creeping beneath his skin and beginning to eat at him.

 

“Why would you be in here?” Junhong found himself asking, his throat tight, “Why would you be in the King's bedchamber?”

 

Daehyun turned his head, seeing the plate of food stationary before Junhong as he stared at him with uncertainty, “You should eat Junhong-ah.” Was all the cook said, but Junhong would have none of it. His fingers gripped onto the blankets and he shook his head.

 

“Tell me why... Please.” He asked, eyes pleading for the truth. Daehyun pursed his lips and looked down, a small chuckle rolling from his throat as he admitted.

 

“We were lovers. For a time.” He said, glancing back to the younger. He admitted it easily, as though it were nothing but Junhong could see there was hesitance upon his face to speak such a truth.

 

“Y-you're his cook.” Junhong said, and Daehyun just shrugged.

 

“One does not need to be his whore to be bedded by him.” He said and finally turned all of his attention to the younger. Junhong lifted his hands and sunk them into his hair, leaning forward as he closed his eyes and tried so desperately to keep himself calm as Daehyun's words sunk into him. It was all he was. The King's whore.

 

Daehyun stepped with care across the tiled room and lowered himself to sit beside Junhong, a hand brushing over his back gently, trying to ease him into calm, “It was a long time ago, Junhong-ah. Before he was King.” Junhong shook his head, “We were young.”

 

“I just... I don't understand.” Junhong said, his eyes closing tightly, “I don't understand.”

 

There was a softness in Daehyun's eyes as he settled in his seat. Fingers began to slide through Junhong's hair, touching the back of his neck and attempting to calm the younger down enough to talk to him, “My village was purged and my family killed and I fled to Huingol alone to seek refuge.” Daehyun said, “Kim Hwayah found me sleeping in the King's stables and she took pity on me and brought me inside to wash and get medical attention. My arm was broken and I was covered in cuts and bruises and slashes from enemy blades. I was lost, afraid and alone but inside the Palace walls, no matter how terrifying it was, I was safe.

 

“Hwayah asked the Princes not to tell anyone I was here, and instead the three of us grew closer. They were older than me but... They were kind. They helped me learn ride a horse like a Huingol native, Himchan helped me develop skill with a blade, and Yongguk tutored me in reading and writing. I believe I was a project for them, something to occupy their bored minds while keeping out of their father's way. He did not often allow them to spend time with other people their age and I am sure it excited them to have someone other than one another. As I grew older, Hwayah found me a position in the kitchens and I was able to work and live in the Palace, while occasionally accompanying them out of the Palace walls. The Princes showed my skill with blade and bow to the King and he allowed me to be an... unofficial guard if you will.” Daehyun glanced to Junhong, his gaze warm, “Yongguk was a bored Prince who had little opportunity to speak to anyone other than his brother, me or Palace servants. I offered him an entertainment that others did not.”

 

“And how do I not know this is a lie too?” Junhong asked, his lips twisting as he soaked in the new information.

 

“Ask Yongguk-hyung.” Daehyun said, leaning back and stretching himself out upon the bed. He could see that all of this was not settling quite right with his younger friend and he smiled slightly, mouth crooked and teeth bared, “And trust me when I say, Junhong-ah, that nothing between Yongguk and I was ever close to love. He never loved me, nor did I him, as anything but a friend and a trusted companion. I know how he looks at you. I know that he does not deem you as a whore or a plaything.”

 

“How do you know that?” Junhong bit back, his brow furrowed and his arms winding around his own middle.

 

“Because I _know_ him, Junhong-ah. I know what he is like, and I can assure you that he never looked upon me the way he looks upon you.” Daehyun chuckled, rolling over onto his front. His mirth drooped and he looked down at the soft fur, tracing a few fingers over it in unrecognisable shapes. “That was many years ago. The Princes were not yet men.”

 

The anger that settled upon Daehyun's features was familiar to Junhong. It was the feeling of a loss so great it would never stop haunting anyone who experienced it. “How old were you?” He voiced, twisting and looking down at Daehyun. The beginning of his story rang in his ears and he realised that he and the cook were far more alike than either of them had known. Daehyun glanced back at him and his lips twitched.

 

“I was fifteen when they came.” He replied. Junhong nodded and swallowed, his own fingers moving to brush against those of his elder friend. Daehyun smiled sadly to him, “I know what it is like to hate someone, Junhong-ah. To hate them so much it burns you from the inside out. When Himchan-hyung gave me the opportunity to learn the art of war, I trained with all of my energy for weeks. Months. All I could think about was the face of the man who murdered my family and I cannot imagine what it would have been like to have that man near you, touching you, _wanting_ you...”

 

Junhong nodded, his stomach churning at the very thought. He couldn't count the number of times he had lay in Lord Kang's arms, staring at the hands that had obliterated his life, “He is dead. General Kwon killed him.” Junhong said, swallowing again and glancing to his elder friend. Daehyun's fingers brushed over his cheek, stroking the line of his jaw, then tracing the shell of his ear. In one careful movement, he lifted his head and pressed his lips to Junhong's forehead in a soothing and brotherly kiss.

 

“I am envious, Junhong, that you have had the joy of watching him die.” Daehyun's voice was soft, little more than a whisper as he looked into Junhong's eyes. “Yongguk will protect you from whatever and whoever there is, I am certain he will do everything in his power to keep you safe.” The man assured him, “You are his, just as Jongup is Himchan's and I have faith that it is not a passing fancy.”

 

“I just... I do not know what is real anymore. There is so much I do not understand about Huingol.” Junhong murmured. He wondered where Yongguk was, hoping that he would soon be finished with his afternoon business. Part of Junhong was regretting leaving his side at all.

 

“If he is sending _me_ to watch over you, Junhong-ah, then he is keen to protect you. He does not take me from the kitchens for just any reason.” Daehyun nudged the boy's head and the younger cracked a small smile. The cook once again lifted himself to sit and brought the plate of food across his lap. Junhong watched as he lifted the balled rice between his index finger and thumb, holding it out to the younger, “your King will not be pleased if he returns and you have not been fed.”

 

Junhong leant forward and took the food into his mouth, chewing slowly as he watched the elder man once again begin gazing around the room. There was a sadness that lingered in his eyes, and Junhong understood. No matter how many years pass, or what kind of family may be found, the loss would always linger beneath the skin. “Do you know... Who it was?” Junhong asked once he had swallowed his food.

 

Daehyun turned his head and nodded, lifting another serving of food and pressing it to Junhong's lips, “I do.” He admitted.

 

The courtesan opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into the seasoned rice, his fingers lifting to catch anything that fell as he blinked tiredly to his friend, “You said Himchan-hyung trained you in weaponry, Hyung. How developed is your skill?”

 

The elder of the two was silent for what dragged on to be like an age. He watched Junhong chew on the food in his mouth and urged him into finishing what was offered to his lips. The courtesan's eyes were growing heavy as he reclined upon the mattress and was fed so lazily by a man he trusted, “You should sleep, Junhong-ah.” Daehyun said, setting aside the platter and guiding the luxurious furs over his dear friend's body. Junhong knew he could not expect Daehyun to reveal all his secrets at once.

 

*

 

He was awoken by voices. There was a warmth and familiarity surrounding him and he didn't want to relinquish the safety of sleep even as words were shared in hushed tones.

 

“She doesn't know anything of use. The Kwon's don't seem to trust in their servants like you do. It was easy to have her confessing what she knew, but she knows little.” Daehyun said. The bed dipped and lifted, Junhong was now alone upon the mattress.

 

“I guess I should not be surprised.” Yongguk's voice replied, deep and tired, “How long has he been asleep?”

 

“An hour... Maybe less.” Daehyun responded. Feet shuffled over tile and fingers gently carded through Junhong's hair, then traced over the arch of his neck. His eyes fluttered and his lips parted, blinking up into Yongguk's gentle eyes.

 

“Your Majesty...” Junhong murmured, licking his lower lip and beginning to guide himself to sit. A wave of need washed over him and he leant tiredly into the elder man's form, curling his fingers into the soft robes that covered his body, “I missed you.” He breathed out the words on an exhale. Yongguk's lips curved into a smile and he leant in to press a tender kiss to Junhong's forehead as he gently cupped the back of his head.

 

“I am here now with you, my jewel.” He said, his second hand lifting and a warm palm pressing to his soft cheek. Junhong smiled and blinked sleepily over towards Daehyun as the man stood by the door.

 

“If I did not know better I would feel jealousy that I never got such treatment.” He said and Yongguk's eyebrow quirked at his cook's audacity. Junhong pressed his face into Yongguk's body, taking in his scent and the sensation of his reassuring touch.

 

“Jealousy was never your nature, Daehyun-ah.” The King responded, “Or I thought it was not until I witnessed you with one particular member of my court.”

 

Daehyun smiled and stepped towards the door, “There is an exception to every rule, Your Majesty.” He bowed low and withdrew from the room, leaving the King and his courtesan alone.

 

Junhong rose his head and gazed up to his King, his lips curving into a small smile, “Yongguk-hyung, did your appointments go well?” He asked, humming as slender fingers began to stroke again through his hair, then trace down along the side of his face. The King always wished to touch him constantly, as though he didn't quite believe he were real.

 

“They did.” He responded, though pulled back a moment after, “Come, my precious one. I would like for you to come with me.”

 

The courtesan stood immediately, straightening his sleep-ruffled silks and reaching to his veil as it lay upon the mattress, but Yongguk stopped him, “You do not need that where I am taking you.” A hand pressed to the small of his back and he followed the guidance of Yongguk's body. They stepped through silent halls and into the courtyard behind Yongguk's most secluded libraries, the tall silver tree that stood in the centre hanging leafless and covered in snow. Junhong wondered if it was dead, as no sign of life had been upon it's branches since the day he had arrived in the city.

 

“My brother told me you spoke to Seonmi.” The King said, stepping from Junhong's side to brush snow from a spindly branch. Bird seed had been scattered upon the freshly fallen snow, but it had not been touched and their footsteps were the first to disturb the virgin snow.

 

“She spoke to me, Yongguk-hyung. I did not respond, I was wearing my veil.” Junhong replied. He watched the way Yongguk's fingers curled into a fist at his side, his head turning to glance back.

 

“She is aware that it is aggressive for her to speak with you, or to insult you. Your title may be Courtesan, but you are a part of the most private side of the Palace, and to attack you is indirectly an attack on me.” His voice was deep and he exhaled a slow breath, finally turning completely.

 

“General Kim managed to arrive in time before she could remove my veil, Yongguk-Hyung. I am very grateful to him.” He bowed his head slightly, biting into his lower lip. Yongguk merely nodded as he stepped slowly around Junhong in the snow.

 

“And Daehyun...” The King said, allowing the words to hang heavy in the air.

 

“He spoke to me of the past.” Junhong confirmed, his head turning to try and follow his King as the man circled him. Yongguk stopped behind him, his hands lifting to settle upon his courtesan's waist and drawing him back into his body.

 

“Daehyun-ah is a very valuable member of my court.” Yongguk spoke, “and his position in the Palace conceals him from those we do not trust and he may watch them.” Junhong nodded his head and tilted it to the side, exposing his throat as Yongguk's breath fanned out across his skin, “He is trained for war and he is smart and silent.”

 

“You can use him to kill.” Junhong elaborated what the King was telling him. Fingers pressed into his skin through his burgundy robe and Yongguk nodded.

 

“If I so need someone to do such a deed, yes. I can use him to kill. Silent, swift and secret.” Junhong swallowed and exhaled a deep breath, his hand dropping to settle on Yongguk's own. The King twined their fingers against his waist.

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Junhong whispered and Yongguk smiled. Warm lips came into contact with his shoulder, then his throat and arms wrapped themselves tightly around his waist. A single bird fluttered down from the edge of a rooftop and landed in the snow, picking at the seed.

 

“Because you are not a slave, Junhong-ah, you are not a pretty thing to display, or a toy to play with. I will not have you ignorant or blind in my palace.” His voice was low and soft. Junhong turned his head slightly and bit down onto his lower lip, accepting the words with a nod. There was not much left to be said and so they stood there, Junhong's eyes closing as Yongguk's mouth became reacquainted with his skin.

 

“Is this tree dead, Yongguk-hyung?” He asked, his dark eyes fluttering as teeth grazed a sensitive curve. Yongguk's gaze rose to trace over each naked branch and the silver trunk.

 

“No, Junhong-ah. During winter it looks dead, but when the first winds of Spring approach, before the melt, blossoms will grow upon it.” He said, “They will be pink and soft. No leaves or new growth will appear until Summer, only blossoms on silver branches.”

 

There was something so poetic to him about the new life that would appear on the tree. When it looked as though all hope was lost, the season would change and each branch would be rejuvenated and life would once again radiate from the solid wooden trunk. Junhong turned his gaze to look upon his King and he smiled. Like blossoms in Spring the warmth of Yongguk's embrace showed him that he had finally found his own chance for new life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know how I said that I wouldn't be posting a new chapter until the first weekend of June?  
> Yeah that was apparently a lie.
> 
> Hope you like it xo


	9. Chapter 9

For what felt like the first time in an age, the snow ceased and the sun shone. Junhong could feel the joy that radiated through the city at the sudden coming warmth and even though only the very top layers of snow melted, the streets were overrun with the eager citizens of the White City. Yongguk had been hesitant to allow Junhong from his sight after the conversation he'd had with Seonmi, but with a little persuasion, Junhong had been granted permission to venture from the Palace walls.

 

The courtesan hummed as he entered the busy stables. It was warm and it smelled like the familiar combination of Horses and Hay, something Junhong had come to love since arriving in Huingol. Stablehands tended to the animals around him with a practiced ease. They lived off to the side of the large, wooden building and Junhong had convinced himself to rest easy knowing the majestic creatures were cared for by such a dedicated group.

 

He stepped between stalls and easily managed to climb over one of the gates and perched himself upon it, his lips spreading into a wide grin as he finally saw her. Yeona was everything he had remembered she was with her coat of jet black and her dark, piercing eyes. She lifted her head and snuffed at him, stepping over the hay with a swish of her tail.

 

“Hello...” Junhong murmured in greeting, his hands finding the gravitational pull to her muzzle, then curving around to brush at her cheek. Her nose wrinkled in assessment, but she did not make a fuss, simply nudging into his stomach and releasing another equine sound. Junhong laughed softly to himself and rubbed his thumb beneath her eye, wiping away some grime, “I missed you so much. Did you miss me?”

 

Yeona huffed and stepped again into the hay, her coat shuddering as a shiver ran through her. The courtesan grinned and he planted a soft kiss to the side of her head, just beneath her ear, “I know Yongguk-hyung misses you, too. He thinks about you a lot, I can see it in his eyes.” He carefully dropped from the fence onto his feet and pushed his hair from where it had fallen and obscured his vision. Yongguk had told him he did not need his veil, it would only get filthy in the stable muck, and he barely needed such rich decoration when he wore his brown simple robes.

 

There was a rack on the side of the stall and set upon it were various tools. Junhong hardly knew what any of them were, but the obvious shape of a brush caught his eye and he reached for it. It fit easily into the palm of his hand and he began to brush it over Yeona's side, hearing her huff in appreciation of the touch, “You are very special to Yongguk-hyung, Yeona.” Junhong began to speak, his voice tilting and sliding down into his lost dialect, “I am so lucky that he allows me to spend time with you.”

 

Stablehands bustled past but Junhong paid them no mind. There was a serenity that came with being by Yeona's side, and he felt honoured that she responded to each of his touches with such calm when so many in the palace had told him of her inability to cooperate. “You know you were the first horse I ever rode? I know it is important now I live in Huingol to ride, and I am glad that I have only ridden you.” He brushed along her flank and she grunted in appreciation, Junhong smiled. “You are so kind, Yeona. You have such grace... It is not a surprise at all coming from the descendent of Noeul, though. I know some others find you intimidating... I think beauty does that.”

 

Junhong thought he could so easily forget about the world here, against the side of this beautiful creature. Nothing mattered when he stood by her, even as the sharp winter breeze slid between them and sent a chill through Junhong's body, causing him to press even closer to her larger form. The rhythm of the brush against Yeona's skin was soothing for them both, “I am thankful to Yongguk-hyung, you know.” He said, his eyes following the movements of her skin as she relished under the simple touch of Junhong's care, “He cares for me very well. He has showed me so much of the Palace, and the life of Huingol. The day when he first took me out into the Valley was very special.” A smile crept onto Junhong's lips, “He kissed me in that clearing for the first time, but you know that, Yeona. You were there.”

 

The beast swished her tail and took a step over the hay floor, causing a soft laugh to slide from Junhong's lips, “I wish I could show him something in return but I have so little to give. The only thing I have is myself and that is something that already belongs to him.” The admission of such a thing out loud had a weight lifted from upon him, his eyes fluttering closed as he finally leant forward. The side of his head touched her withers and his right arm slipped easily to lay over her back, “Maybe one day, during the Summer, I will be able to take him down to the south, where my village once was. I want him to see the way the Ocean meets the Sky.” He sighed and licked his lips, “I want him to smell the salt and feel the sun on his skin and know just what it is like to feel so small and insignificant. I want him to see the stars that shine above the Sea and light the way for straying ships, and I want him to know everything that is beautiful and terrifying about a vast, endless blue.”

 

Somewhere in the stables came a whiney and a grunt, elsewhere wheels on a cart creaked as they were dragged over dirt, Junhong knew he was far from his surrendered home, but he would never relinquish it from his heart. Time was passing and he could not remain in the stables forever or else his King would grow agitated. Too soon, his arms were slipping from Yeona's warm side and he was bidding her farewell with a promise to return soon.

 

When he made it back towards the Palace, life was booming more than it had been in weeks. The city-dwellers were overjoyed with their ability to step outside and feel the teasing warmth of the sun as it hung in the sky between the towering mountains that surrounded them. Some were leaving the city gates, while others took time to explore their hibernating home, but all moved together and the square was packed.

 

Inside the Palace as well was a bustle of movement, but it was one Junhong had grown accustomed to. He slipped easily between the crowds, insignificant in his plain brown robes, and he was thankful that with the covering of his face came an anonymity as although some knew him by face, many overlooked him as yet another working in the great capital. It did not take him long to find his way in the quiet halls of his King's wing, pleased when he entered his bedroom and found clothes laid out upon his bed while Kim Hwayah rearranged his minimal possessions.

 

“Your room has not been used for a while, I see.” She commented when she saw him and he smiled in return.

 

“His Majesty wishes for me to take rest upon his bed, Madame.” He responded. The woman turned to look at him, her own lips curving with mirth as she smoothed her hand over the dusty windowsill, brushing away the grime.

 

“If he wishes for you to sleep upon his bed only, Junhong-ah, I wish he would repurpose this bedroom. It is going to waste collecting dust.” She tutted, stepping closer to him. Her warm knuckles pressed to his snow-flushed cheeks, “You have been outside, your skin is cold. Does your King know of this adventure?”

 

“He approved it, Madame. I simply went to visit Yeona. I do not want her to be feeling alone or abandoned from lack of visits.” Junhong assured the woman as she nodded and began the task of undoing his robes. Junhong had learned now that there was no use questioning her as she did such a thing, he had been undressed by her countless times over the previous months. His arms lifted and he stood still so she could disrobe him, caring little for his nudity.

 

“I have prepared you a bath, lucky you got here before it ran cold.” She said with a scolding look and Junhong couldn't help but smile. He could imagine her with the young princes, speaking to them much the same in a manner very few would be brave enough to.

 

“Thank you, Madame.” He responded simply and stepped from her side to venture into his adjoining room where the steaming tub sat awaiting him. It smelled strong of citrus and flowers and as Junhong sunk down into it he emitted a groan, “The bath smells like Spring.” He stated and Hwayah laughed, her smile wide and he noticed just how alike Himchan's it was.

 

“To our King, dearest child, you are like a Spring flower blossoming through the dark and cold winter. Maybe he wishes for you to smell like one.” She commented, folding his dirty clothes and sending him a pointed look, “Because right now you smell like a stable boy, and no lover of the King's can smell of Horses and hay.”

 

“I think Yeona smells beautiful.” Junhong responded, washing the water over his arms, scrubbing at the dirt that had settled beneath his nails. Hwayah just smiled and remained silent. Though the bath was beautiful, Junhong had little time to enjoy it and soon Hwayah was guiding him to dress in deep grey robes, his veil fastened over his nose once again before a man servant came to lead him through the Palace. He did not need a guide, but he was sure the King felt more secure with the knowledge that he would not be alone.

 

The man bowed low to him and left him alone in the doorway of one of the many studies that dotted through the Palace. It was one he had seen many times before, but as it belonged to the King's brother he had never ventured inside before this very moment. With care, he stepped over the tiled floor and looked around. The room was wide and the walls were lined with books and maps, words written in ink on documents pinned against the illustrations of cities or mountains, all places Junhong did not recognise until he found his way to the map of a small compound.

 

His fingers extended and he traced the shapes of roads and buildings surrounding a large structure in the centre that held such a daunting familiarity and had him exhaling a slow breath. A red line had been struck through Lord Kang's home and Junhong had to turn his head, not wanting his focus to linger on the image that he connected with years of torture and misery. He was free now, and Kang's compound was little more than a distant memory to him.

 

Instead, he crossed the room and surveyed curiously over the desk. Documents were spread across the dark wood, as well as a few large tomes Junhong was sure held a great importance that he would not understand. Sitting beside a small pot of ink and matching brush was a cavalry of clay horses standing in formation, each one unique. The courtesan brushed his fingers along one of the figures, tracing the elegant arch of it's spine and admiring the exquisite detail displayed in the work.

 

“They are Jongup's.” Himchan's voice startled him and Junhong immediately jumped backwards, his cheeks flushing as he realised he had been caught touching what was not his to touch. Himchan's expression was gentle however and he stepped through the room with purpose, setting down another series of large books and documents upon a low shelf, “They were created for strategy, to be placed upon a map. Each one of those horses represents fifty soldiers, and they are used to prepare for war.” The man elaborated, Junhong tilting his head in curiosity, “They belonged to Jongup's father, and he often played with them as a boy in their home.”

 

“Was Jongup's father a soldier?” Junhong asked from beneath his veil. Himchan glanced to him as he began to clear documents from his desk, placing them in their rightful homes.

 

“He was a General. Jongup's elder brothers are both valued soldiers in Huingol's armies, just as Jongup was intending to be.” The man spoke, straightening the small figures upon his desk. Even though they were made of nothing but mud and dirt, he treated them as though they were priceless.

 

“If he was intending to become a soldier, Prince Himchan, how did he end up working for you?” Junhong asked. The General glanced to the courtesan before him and he smiled.

 

“That, Junhong-ah, is a story for another time.” He said just as there was movement from the halls and the King was stepping over the threshold with Jongup at his side. Yongguk's smile mirrored his brother's as he lay his eyes upon Junhong, immediately extending a hand in a silent command that was swiftly obeyed.

 

“Thank you for allowing this to take place in here, Himchan-ah.” Yongguk spoke as soon as he held Junhong in his arms, surveying his brother's movements.

 

“I would not wish for them to step into your wing any more than you, brother.” Himchan responded, his own hands slipping along Jongup's hips and bringing the boy close against his side and glancing to his King, “Is it wise to have these two in with us?” He asked, his lips pursed and his hand curving around Jongup's front to bring his smaller body flush to his chest.

 

“The more we have in here, the better. I trust they will bring Seonmi, and Kwon will possibly bring Youngjae. I do not want to be outnumbered, but I also do not wish for any others to be privy to such a meeting and since it is not yet time for Daehyun to be revealed to them, having Jongup with us will suffice greatly.” Yongguk stated as he crossed the room, taking the seat behind the broad desk.

 

“And Junhong?” Himchan asked as the Courtesan took his place standing behind his King, his fingers curled submissively at his front.

 

“I would not wish for him to be anywhere but by my side. I will not have them believing I am defensive of anything or anyone. I am the King, and I will not be intimidated.” Yongguk finished, sucking in a deep breath and turning to his brother who nodded easily, beckoning for Jongup to stand with him beside the King.

 

Once again, movement came from the hallway and a cleric entered the door, “Your Majesty.” He greeted with raised arms and a low bow, “Lord Kwon, General Kwon and Lady Kwon.” Yongguk nodded his head in dismissal, his elbows pressing against the ebony desk as he watched their Northern visitors enter the room and stand before him, Youngjae following in behind his master and taking position by the door. His eyes met Junhong's for the briefest moment, before he averted his gaze and watched his master's take their seat.

 

“What a privilege it is to take private audience with the King.” Lord Kwon said, straightening his robe as he looked around the room they were seated in, “It is a shame your studies were unavailable.”

 

“I would not wish for my guests to be uncomfortable in the colder side of the Palace.” Yongguk's voice was void of emotion as he leant back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight and his robes whispering.

 

“You are so kind, Your Majesty, to care about our wellbeing thus.” Junhong heard the sarcasm lingering on the Lord's tongue and his lips curled beneath his veil in distaste. He was truly learning to despise this man and his brutal brother and vile daughter.

 

“A King should be kind, Lord Kwon.” Yongguk stated and the Northerner chuckled.

 

“Is that a lesson your late father taught you, or one your bastard brother's servant mother included in your education?” The audacity with which he spoke was shocking, and Junhong saw how little respect he held for the most powerful man in the Kingdom.

 

Yongguk would not be shaken, instead focusing his hard gaze on the man's eyes, “State your terms, Lord Kwon. You had a reason for the journey to Huingol, and you have been wasting far too much of my time dancing around the topic.” He gestured to Jongup and the younger stepped forward, a board in hand and a small brush ready.

 

“There are things in the Kingdom we are dissatisfied with, Your Majesty, and we wish to discuss those with you.” Lord Kwon said, leaning forward in his chair, “My brother liberated Kang's compound just as you ordered him to and he was not repaid at all for such hard work, risking his very life the way he did.”

 

“Your brother did as he was asked to. He completed his duty as a General in the King's army.” Yongguk responded, lips pursed, “What would he have wished for? I was not about to hand over Lord Kang's land as a prize for simply doing what is required.”

 

“Who _did_ take the land? You gave it to some pitiful Southerner who will just waste it away as any would do.” Kwon responded, his jaw tense.

 

“I will not give Southern land to a Northern Lord.” Yongguk replied, “Your aggression and degradation towards the peasantry of the south would cause an uprising, Kwon. I am aware of the hunger your family has for land and power, I will not _liberate_ a city from a tyrant only to reinstate another.”

 

“Do not talk to us of greed, Your Majesty.” General Kwon replied, “You do not share the land, and you even take a Southern whore into your keep rather than giving that prize to those who earn it.”

 

“You cannot trade in Human life, General, and you would do well not to insult your King.” Himchan bit back, his shoulders tense as Jongup noted down all that was being said, his back straight. Junhong swallowed as he watched General Kwon's eyes find him, gazing over his body with ill-concealed hunger that was nothing like the hunger held in his King's gaze. When Yongguk looked upon him it was with a need to adore, a need to devote his lips and tongue and fingers to every inch of Junhong's skin, but General Kwon looked as though he wanted nothing but to fulfil his own animal desires.

 

“Yet it is perfectly acceptable for the King to insult us?” Lord Kwon snapped back at the Prince, his fingers curling into fists at his thighs, “Your dead father made a promise to us that once Seonmi was of age, Yongguk would take her hand and yet he has not, nor ever will from what he is saying. It is an insult and an embarrassment that she has been so openly rejected time after time and yet the King chooses to instead bed an illiterate whore!”

 

“She would be much more suited to your Northern friends, Lord Kwon. She does not belong in the Palace.” Yongguk responded.

 

“We have been given a promise.” The man hissed, his face flushing red, “It is our _right_ for Seonmi to be Queen and we will not stop until she is.”

 

“Choose your words with care, Kwon.” Himchan warned, his hand slipping down once again to his side, his thumb rubbing at the golden top of his dagger's handle.

 

“No, I am _sick_ of watching you waste this Kingdom away and give so much power back to the Southern Lords.” Kwon stood from his seat, his palms pressing flat against the wood of the desk that separated him from his King, “You are a _weak_ ruler, favouring peasant scum over the Lords and Generals who have stood by the crown during all unrest through the Kingdom. I will not sit idle by and watch you waste Huingol's power by protecting worthless fools and embarrassing all those who hold any position in the Kingdom.”

 

Junhong swallowed as he watched Seonmi placing her hand upon her Father's shoulder, her brows furrowed as he growled in anger to the King before him, “I am not alone, _King,_ in my thoughts and if you continue to refuse Seonmi's hand then all those who hold _concerns_ for this Kingdom will have to move forward in a much less delicate way.” Kwon spoke their King's title as though it were a joke, “You marry Seonmi by Spring, or else the snow of Huingol will be red with blood.”

 

“Get out.” Yongguk said as he stood from his seat, jaw tense and spine straight. General Kwon moved to speak but the King held up his hand, “Get out before I have all three of you killed for treason.”

 

Seonmi was the first to move, her own expression one of shock as she curled her fingers around her father's wrist, pulling him with her from the study with her uncle following behind. Youngjae swallowed and glanced to his King, bowing his head and following the Kwon family from the room, the door closing behind them. Junhong released a breath he had not known he had been holding, his head turning to watch Himchan as the man moved.

 

“We could arrest them tonight.” He said, his hand moving to press against Jongup's back, the younger setting down the tools with which he wrote.

 

“We do not know if they are bluffing. If there are others the issue will not be resolved and their arrest will resolve in retaliation.” Yongguk said, his jaw clenching once more as he slammed his fist down against the table, “We should never have allowed them within the city walls.” He grunted, his rage filled eyes turning to his brother.

 

“They can't do anything. Even as your wife Seonmi would have no power and killing you would start a war.” Himchan said, “Besides, I am second in line, if you were killed I would be King.”

 

“They would hardly keep you alive. If I was killed, you would be too, and that would leave Yeji and Yongnam in danger.” Yongguk said, “If I were to marry Seonmi they would insert themselves in wherever and however they could, they could take as much control as was available.” He shook his head and pushed back his chair, Junhong winced at the sound of it scraping against the stone floor, “Send for Daehyun. I must speak with him.” Yongguk said, moving already towards the door.

 

“Yongguk...” Himchan said, his brows furrowed.

 

“Just do as I say for once in your life, Himchan.” The King snapped back, gesturing for Junhong to follow him. The courtesan was swift in catching up with Yongguk's haste, his brow furrowed with concern as they made it through the Palace halls. Servants parted before them until finally, Yongguk was pushing open the door to his favoured library and Junhong barely made it through before it was slamming closed behind him. He swallowed as he watched the anger surge through the man before him, but before he could think to stop himself, he was speaking.

 

“You can't marry her.” Junhong said aloud. His hand lifted and he undid the string of his veil, licking his dry lips and watching as Yongguk turned to him.

 

“I can't?” He asked with a raised voice, “Are you allowed now to tell me what I can and cannot do?”

 

“You do not want to marry her. You hate her!” Junhong said back, his tone reasoning. He had no idea where he found the courage to talk back in such a manner as he knew it would have gotten him killed in his prior home to speak thus to his master.

 

“How _dare_ you talk to me in such a tone.” Yongguk grit back, his dark brows furrowed together and his eyes flashing with rage, “You know _nothing_ of the situation we are in, you are just a palace whore.”

 

Junhong felt his own anger flare because never had he been called such a thing by Yongguk. He stepped forward and shook his head, “You told me you did not wish for me to be blind and ignorant and I am not. You cannot marry her!”

 

“Why can't I?” Yongguk yelled back, in his anger pushing a pile of stacked books from his desk, a bottle of ink falling onto the stone and smashing.

 

“Because if you marry her Huingol is done! If you marry her Kwon will take over! Huingol will become just as Kang's compound was and the Joseon peninsula will go to ruin. Kwon will do everything you try and prevent, he will destroy peasants, he will take anything he pleases to feed his own power and he will turn you into nothing but a puppet!” Junhong finally yelled. He stepped forward across the stone floor, uncaring of the glass and ink beneath his shoes as he sunk his fingers into the silks of Yongguk's robes, “You can't marry her because everything will be destroyed and I love you!” His voice cracked as he gripped the rich silks, his face flushed as he screamed, “You cannot marry her because I love you!”

 

Silence descended between them as they panted, faces flushed and eyes wide until Yongguk's hand lifted and tangled into the mess of black hair atop Junhong's head, bringing him forward and slamming their lips together.

 

Junhong keened into the touch, his eyes closing and one arm lifting to wrap around his King's neck, feeling a need burn through his very body after the fiery admission had slipped from his lips. Yongguk groaned against his lips and pushed him back, using one arm to brush over his table, careless as things went flying to all sides. Parchment was soaking up the ink that lay spilled across the tile floor but neither stopped for a moment to think about it as both were engulfed by the fire of anger and need.

 

Yongguk's mouth pulled from Junhong's to instead trail kisses hungrily down his neck, his tongue and teeth working against the expanse of his throat as his fingers began to make work of undoing the front of his exquisite and expensive robes, allowing them to fall open and expose the planes of Junhong's snow white skin.

 

The courtesan arched against the wood as lips trailed along his collarbones and between his breasts while hands grasped for purchase against hips, thighs, arms, anything they could dig into and hold close. Yongguk breathed out a shaking breath and he groaned at the taste of freshly washed skin mixed with the scent of sweet smelling oils, “Junhong...” He groaned low against his skin, tugging at the robes that hung limp at his arms. Junhong shifted and licked his lips and the King stepped back to allow him to stand straight again, sliding his arms free and leaving himself bare.

 

Yongguk's eyes held a ravenous hunger as he surveyed the skin before him, his hands pressing forward to grip at the younger's hips and easily twisting him around. Junhong gasped as his chest was pressed flush against the table and the sensation of Yongguk's robes against his naked thighs caused a tremble to rush through him but soon all was forgotten as the King's mouth found the back of his neck and began a trail of passionate kisses along each notch of his spine.

 

“Yongguk-” Junhong began to speak as he arched but he was cut off by the King's grip tightening on his sides.

 

“Don't speak, Junhong-ah...” He murmured, his hands releasing Junhong's hips to make quick work of undoing his own robes and shrugging them into a pile upon the floor.

 

Slim fingers curled into a fist against the hard wood desk and Junhong was gasping, his head lifting from it's resting place to glance back as lips, fingers and tongue worshipped his skin. Of course every night when the King chose to have him, he was cared for with tender adoration but it had never been anything like this and he was left watching as Yongguk's palms pressed to the round of his rear and carefully parted him open.

 

“You are so beautiful, Junhong-ah.” The courtesan's gasps were in a faint rhythm as lips and tongue slipped lower and lower until a wet heat was pressed to a part of him so intimate that it had him whimpering at the contact. He pressed his forehead into the desk, his nails scratching at the wood as Yongguk's tongue traced his sinful opening with a passionate devotion he had not ever expressed before.

 

It was too easy for Junhong to feel overwhelmed by such a touch and soon a finger was pressing forward and sliding alongside the tongue into his body causing a cry to be drawn from him. The intrusion was a familiar discomfort and he knew that with a practiced ease, Yongguk would have him writhing against the desk, begging to be taken. Yet in this moment, as Yongguk's lips pressed against him and his finger worked with care into his body Junhong knew that his King's eagerness was not born from lust or desire, it was born from a love he had never revealed, and Junhong wanted nothing more than to have his body and soul _loved_ thoroughly by every inch of Yongguk's own.

 

His legs were trembling as he stood bent over the table, his toes curling into the tile floor. He couldn't remember where he had tossed his clothing and he wondered briefly if the expensive silks had landed in the spilled ink, but when a second finger was pressed into his body he couldn't find it within him to care because this pleasure was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

 

Junhong could feel the curve of Yongguk's own erection against the back of his thigh and he turned his head, watching the way the King's head of black hair had settled against him, intent on giving him pleasure in a way Junhong had never received it before. He had never been worthy of such things. Why would anyone care to _pleasure_ their whore? His worth was in the pleasures he could give to others and yet even through the physical stimulation, he knew that the way his chest felt hot and his cheeks flushed was more than just that. It was so much more than just that.

 

A third finger was added and Junhong was keening back, his hips rocking onto the digits as he panted, “Please...” His voice was husky with need, his face flushed from exertion.

 

“Don't beg.” Yongguk murmured against his skin, his fingers spreading wide and his tongue sliding once again over them before he was withdrawing. His chest slid smooth over the curve of Junhong's spine, the heat of his body causing the courtesan to whimper, “Don't beg for me, Junhong.”

 

“But I need you...” The younger responded as he turned his head. His eyes were in a haze of desire, his lips wet and bruised from how his teeth had been attacking them. The smile Yongguk gave him took his breath away and a hand found his to lace their fingers together.

 

“You have me.” The words sent another shiver through his body and soon the King was dipping his fingers into the sweet scented oil upon his desk and slicking himself to assure an ease of entry and to prevent his young love from experiencing any pain.

 

The first press had Junhong's brow furrowing and his eyes screwing closed, his thighs tensing as he felt the slow burn of the stretch, and soon his King was seated fully inside of him. Their bodies had come together as one and such an intimate press had him trembling against the desk, his lips parted as he panted for breath.

 

Yongguk rocked his hips once experimentally, then carefully withdrew and pressed forward once more, causing a sharp gasp to flutter from his beautiful courtesan's mouth and he smiled. A pace was building between them and Junhong rocked back into every thrust, his face contorting in pleasure and no restraint was over the sounds he emitted. The courtesan lifted his hand from where it was pressed flat to the wood of the desk, his fingers gently slipping into Yongguk's hair as full lips pressed against his ear.

 

“Say it again...” He grunted, sweat slicking their bodies as the sound of skin on skin overwhelmed the space between them.

 

“I love you...” Junhong whimpered, his mouth open and his eyes rolling back into his head. His length was pressed against the desk and he felt overwhelmed, as though words couldn't form and language meant nothing. All he could feel was Yongguk, and all he wanted to feel was Yongguk.

 

“Again.” The King urged as his lips found the expanse of pale throat, his teeth sinking into the flesh and leaving behind a crimson mark.

 

“I love you!” Junhong's voice raised in pitch, his spine arching as he was brought to his peak with a scream, his fingers tightening their hold on black hair as Yongguk's length pressed into him and overwhelmed him with nothing but pure agonising pleasure. He did not stop to care for the mess he had made on the desk below him as the King's thrusts stuttered and soon the familiar warmth of his release was filling his body, causing him to whimper.

 

Junhong fell limp onto the surface beneath him, panting for breath and closing his eyes. Through his post-orgasmic daze, he felt the fingers that stroked over his sides, dipping along the curve of his thighs, the swell of his rear and tracing the planes of his skin. An index finger connected the dots between moles, while a thumb massaged gently into muscles that tensed and un-tensed in their search for calm relaxation.

 

Kisses trailed slowly over the back of his shoulders, then the notches of his spine. Junhong hummed as he felt the tickle of hair on skin and he shuddered with a whine. Yongguk chuckled and planted a final kiss to the centre of his back, blowing cool breath over the sweat that sent goose-bumps over him, “I will have Hwayah run us a bath.”

 

“Mmm... I don't want to move.” Junhong murmured, his eyes fluttering open and gaze moving to search for his King.

 

The expression on Yongguk's face was gentle, and his eyes were filled with concern, “Junhong-ah...” He breathed, his head leaning forward and his nose nudging into the raven locks, damp with sweat that clung to the courtesan's forehead.

 

“Yes, Hyung?” Junhong replied. He shifted slightly and gasped as he felt Yongguk move within his over-sensitive body. The King released a breathless chuckle into his ear, his eyes closing.

 

“Say it again...” He whispered. Junhong felt a smile curve across his lips and he rested his head down against his folded arms.

 

“I love you, Yongguk...” He murmured, feeling the way the King pressed close to him at such words. They parted with regret and made their way through the halls into the King's private rooms where they easily disrobed once again and sunk together into the steaming water of the bath.

 

Junhong's back was pressed against his King's chest and he felt warm and secure in the embrace that held him so close. His head was nestled easily against Yongguk's shoulder while he gently played with the man's slim fingers. He traced the pad of his index finger over a rounded knuckle, then brushed his thumb against a nail. Those fingers were so delicate, the fingers of royalty he thought. He was sure Yongguk had never had a day of hard labour in his life but he did not mind. He knew that those hands would protect him and keep him safe.

 

“Junhong...” Yongguk murmured into his ear, watching the way the younger touched him with such love and care. “I do not know what will come when the sun rises tomorrow. I do not know what is written in the stars for me.” He said, pausing in his speech to kiss just below Junhong's ear, then trace his tongue along the shell of it gently. The courtesan purred at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he listened, “But I wish for you to know that no matter what comes, you are my jewel. You are my love.”

 

A shuddered breath slid from the courtesan's lips as he turned and looked into the dark eyes of his King, “Say it again...” He murmured.

 

The corner of Yongguk's lips quirked upwards in a soft smile and the tips of their noses brushed, “I love you.”

 

After years of guilt and regret Junhong had come to terms with the knowledge that he could not have prevented the death of his family. Now, he had allowed himself to take refuge in a new home and fall in love with someone to whom he could finally give his heart. As Yongguk uttered those words, the courtesan melted back into his arms and he silently promised himself that he would not allow Yongguk to become yet another star.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is getting reeeeeal! We're almost there, guys!   
> This chapter was hard to write, but I am quite pleased with where it's gone (plus there is a little teaser for another story in the works, I wonder if you can guess where it is ;) )
> 
> I hope you look forward to the next chapter xo


	10. Chapter 10

Sun shone through the window and onto Junhong's naked back. Fingers, warm and familiar, traced unrecognisable shapes along his spine then crept up into his hair to massage his scalp with care. He felt the mattress shift and emitted a soft sound, hearing Yongguk's low chuckle rumbling from his throat as he began to trail kisses over his skin.

 

“Do you not wish to awaken?” He asked, his hands curving around Junhong's sides and the younger smiled, even as his eyes remained closed.

 

“I wish to sleep all day, Yongguk-hyung.” He responded and his teeth sunk into his lower lip as he attempted to suppress the grin that threatened to overwhelm his features.

 

“Aah the leisure of youth.” The King groaned out in response, his chest pressing to Junhong's naked spine and his arms securing their way around his middle. The courtesan finally allowed his eyes to flutter open and he turned back to look to his King.

 

“Can we not remain in bed?” He asked, voice soft as he rolled to lay upon his back, a hand lifting to brush across Yongguk's cheekbones. The King turned his head, kissing the palm that lingered so close and smiled sadly.

 

“I must meet with Daehyun again this morning.” He hummed as he kissed slowly over palm, fingers, wrist, his eyes closed as he touched his mouth to skin with such care. Junhong's teeth sunk into the plush skin of his lower lip and he nodded.

 

“You must all meet with Lord Kwon today?” He asked, his hand moving to slip into Yongguk's thick hair. The feeling of touching his love with such ease had his heart feeling warm, and he smiled up at the elder man, even if the mirth did not quite reach his eyes.

 

“I must.” Yongguk responded. He leant forward and nudged their noses and Junhong closed his eyes as full lips found his in a slow kiss, “Do not fear, my love. I am no more likely to marry Seonmi than I was any others who bargained for my hand.” He hummed, pulling back and rubbing the pad of his thumb gently over the round swell of Junhong's wet lower lip.

 

The young southerner exhaled a slow breath and nodded, “I know. There is no hope for her as queen.” He said. Yongguk's lips curved into a crooked smile, like the crescent of a waning moon. He pressed a kiss to Junhong's forehead and carefully stood, unashamed of his naked body and yet grabbing a robe to drag over himself for protection from the cold. Junhong watched with curious eyes as he relaxed himself, watching the way his beloved King brushed his fingers back through his own hair.

 

“Tell me of your hopes, Junhong-ah.” Yongguk said, his hands pressing to the windowsill. Very little of the snow had melted away, but the sun felt warmer as it bathed their skin now than it had in days prior. “Tell me what you have wished for your future.”

 

Junhong was speechless, his lips turned down into a frown as he carefully chose his words, “Yongguk-hyung it has been years since my future was in my hands. Ever since my village was burnt I have tried to stop myself from having hope for anything different...” He said, pushing himself up to sit properly. The air was cool and he brought his blankets tight around his shoulders, “I have come to terms with my position as a whore. Now, I just hope that when I am no longer beautiful and young that I shall be offered a position elsewhere in the palace. Maybe in a kitchen or even the stable. I would be happy merely living in Huingol.”

 

The King's expression was one of surprise, his brows furrowed and his lips parted as he turned around once again. Junhong felt himself shift uncomfortably for a moment under the intensity of such a gaze, “You are not a slave, or a servant and you will not be cast aside once you reach a certain maturity.” He shook his head as Junhong stood, the two stepping toward one another, “I am sorry, my love, for the way I spoke to you last night. You are not a whore, and I apologise for ever treating you as one, or speaking to you as though you are nothing more than that.”

 

“You were angered, Yongguk-hyung.” Junhong brushed aside the apology, but Yongguk shook his head, his palm pressing to the flush of Junhong's bare skin.

 

“There is no excuse for such a vile way to address you. Only a weak man would insult the person he loves.” Yongguk reinforced, his fingers gently brushing along the curve of Junhong's jaw. The younger saw an internal conflict brewing in his eyes before he continued in his speech, “Junhong you are not bound to me, nor are you bound to Huingol. You are a free man, and you are at liberty to make your own choices. I do not know what is coming, my love. By the time the sun sets on Huingol this evening, it may no longer be safe for you or I and I want for you to leave now, while you have the opportunity.”

 

Junhong couldn't believe what he was hearing, his pink lips parting in surprise as Yongguk's fingers brushed through the thick strands of his black hair and continued. “I know there were maids and servants in Lord Kang's compound who cared for you. I shall write a letter to the Lord whom now inhabits the land and mark it with my seal in request to have him protect you and care for you. You will be kept safe there.”

 

“Huingol is my home.” Junhong responded immediately, his head shaking as his brows furrowed in worry, “That vile place... That was never home to me but Huingol... I would never leave the Valley and I would never choose to leave you. I may not be bound to you as your slave or courtesan, but I am bound to you by love.”

 

“It may not be safe for you. If you go tonight I can send for you once I know you are in no danger.” The King insisted, their foreheads pressing together as they stood in their own safe haven.

 

“No.” Junhong stated, his tone holding a finality, “I watched as my mother, father and brother became stars, Yongguk-hyung. I will not flee and allow you to be killed. If in the coming days it is your time to join my family in the sky, I will be by your side.”

 

“If I am killed there is nothing to stop them slaughtering you and I do not want you to die.” Yongguk's voice was low, his eyes serious.

 

Junhong's lips quirked into a weak smile, “Then you must survive.”

 

*

 

Junhong stepped from Yongguk's side only to bathe and when he re-entered the bedroom he saw his King seated comfortably upon his bed, a platter of food before him and Daehyun leaning against the windowsill.

 

“I spoke to Youngjae early this morning.” The cook said, his arms folded. Junhong held his bathrobe closed across his naked chest and left wet footprints on the stone floor, making his way to his King's side.

 

“Does he know of their plans?” Yongguk asked with a frown. His hand immediately settled upon Junhong's covered thigh, needing to touch the younger man whenever he was near. Daehyun's serious expression softened as he watched how the lovers pressed close together, Junhong's head setting down upon his King's shoulder.

 

“I know they plan on paying you a visit early this evening, they hope to surprise you and find you alone, or with your brother. They brought guards with them from the North, and I am sure they will not be visiting you without them.” Daehyun said, “We plan to meet again not long after noon to discuss any progressions in their plans.”

 

“And if he was fed falsities?” The King quirked an eyebrow. He held a dried persimmon between his thumb and forefinger, offering it to Junhong's waiting mouth. He remembered so clearly how delighted Junhong had been at the taste in the study many weeks before.

 

“I made a promise to him. This evening, I will be bringing guards to you so that when the Kwons arrive, you will not be alone, but if Youngjae fails to meet me at noon I shall rouse them early and come to wherever you are immediately.” The cook stated simply, “It is unlikely they will stray from their plan, but Youngjae doesn't trust them and they very rarely include him within their discussions.”

 

The King looked satisfied and he brushed his knuckles gently over Junhong's lips as he chewed the offered delights, “I trust you, Daehyun, and I trust him. I wish to speak with him but I know there will be no opportunity before tonight.”

 

“He knows what must be done, Hyung. He is smart and he hates the Kwons as much as you or I.” The young cook assured the King, pushing off from where he stood and ruffling Junhong's damp hair affectionately on his way across the room, “I should depart. There is much to be done and soon I will need to seek out Youngjae.”

 

“I shall be meeting with my brother soon.” Yongguk said. He pulled from Junhong's side and stood, “In the study by the Lotus courtyard.”

 

Daehyun nodded his head and glanced to Junhong, sending him a gentle smile, “It is very brave of you to choose to stay.” He commented, surveying the boy's expression. Junhong straightened where he sat, pushing himself up onto his knees, holding his robes closed over his naked body. Daehyun did not wait for him to respond, simply letting himself out from the bedchamber and disappearing down the hallway.

 

Yongguk slipped off his simple robe and discarded it over the divan that sat beneath the window. He dressed in the warmth of his undergarments, then pulled on trousers and a matching tunic of navy blue silk, “You should dress, my jewel.” The King said and Junhong watched him tie his shirt closed, next grabbing a leather thong to pull his hair back and away from his face. The younger followed and dressed himself simply in his favourite burgundy robes, the undergarments beneath keeping his fair skin warm from the cool temperatures that hung low in the valley through the depths of winter.

 

Yongguk opened the door to the chamber and in silence, they made their way through the halls. Junhong noticed the two guards that stood tall in the hallway, their spines straight and expressions guarded. They parted from one another and stepped aside with low bows to allow the King to pass into the study, the door falling closed behind them.

 

Himchan stood by the window, his arm curved around Jongup's waist as they spoke together in hushed tones. The young soldier turned his head and glanced back at the King and his courtesan, bowing his head to them in greeting. “Have you spoken to Daehyun?” Himchan asked from over his lover's head, releasing the younger so that he could step up towards his brother.

 

“Yes, we spoke recently. He is hoping to speak with Youngjae again in less than an hour.” The King responded, his palms pressing together.

 

“And I assume a choice has been made, brother?” Himchan said, watching the expression on Yongguk's face. The King's lips curved into a small smile and he caught Junhong's waist between his hands, bringing the younger back towards his chest.

 

“Seonmi will leave this Palace unwed.” He responded, “I did not ever consider marriage. You know that.”

 

“Lady Kwon has already left Huingol.” Jongup said. A brown leather belt was fastened around his waist, a knife hanging from it and his hair pulled back in a bun, much like the King and his brother wore, “She rode North this morning.”

 

This fact caused Yongguk's lips to purse in curiosity, his gaze flicking to his brother. The two shared a meaningful look, “Daehyun says the Kwon brothers will be paying me a visit this evening.”

 

“Lord Kwon has talked himself into a corner.” Himchan replied, glancing to his beloved, “I shall accompany you tonight. Jongup and Junhong should remain away, there is no need for a man servant and a courtesan in such talks.”

 

“Junhong is not a courtesan.” Yongguk responded immediately, releasing his lover's hips and stepping across the room towards the window.

 

Jongup arched an eyebrow as he leant against a reading table, “Nor am I a servant, Hyung. I am trained in war, just as Daehyun is. I can be of help.”

 

The General glanced to his brother, surprised by the statement he made, but soon his attention was drawn to his partner, “You are not to be involved, Jongup.” He said, tone final.

 

“I am a guard of the King-” Jongup began,

 

“You are my servant, you have been for four years. You no longer need to risk your life or put yourself into any danger.” Himchan snapped back, brows furrowed, “I will not have you in danger. You will take Junhong tonight and I will leave you both with-” His words were cut off as a crash came from the hallway, a grunt following. Yongguk's spine straightened and his head turned, lips tilting down into a serious expression as the door was thrown open, and Lord Kwon stepped inside.

 

Junhong felt a chill run through his body. Following Lord Kwon came his brother, dagger sheathed at his side and taking up the rear was Youngjae and two guards Junhong recognised from the day the Kwon's descended onto Huingol. They were both tall and strongly built, donned in the black leather uniform of a body guard. The bigger of the two had short cropped hair and a scar that extended from the top of his ear to the corner of his mouth, while the other had his longer hair pulled atop his hair into a ponytail that was bound with red string. Behind them, in the dark of the hallway, Junhong could see the King's guards laying dead on the cold stone floor.

 

“How fortunate for us to find you, Your Majesty.” Lord Kwon spoke. Youngjae's jaw was tense, his eyes meeting the King's before they returned to his master. The door was pulled closed with a heavy thud, and the nine of them were left alone.

 

“Fortunate.” Yongguk repeated the word, testing the shape of it as his brows furrowed, “I was surprised to hear of Seonmi's departure from the valley when I awoke this morning.”

 

Something twisted in Lord Kwon's features for a moment until he schooled them back to calm, “Urgent business called my daughter away this morning, unfortunately.” The man grit out and Junhong could see that it was not the Lord's preference for his daughter to have parted from them.

 

“I am sure your compound will be pleased to see her return.” Yongguk replied. Junhong swallowed as he looked to where his King stood by the window, the large ebony desk between them and he was painfully aware how far from the elder man's side he was, and how close he stood to their enemy.

 

“Have you had time to consider my offer?” Lord Kwon asked, stepping further into the room and looking around cooly. He brushed his hand across the side of the desk, eyebrow arched.

 

“You knew my answer long before you made your demands.” Yongguk replied. Kwon's lip curled and he ground his teeth together.

 

“You would be wise to reconsider, Yongguk.” The use of the King's name was a disrespect not many would be forward enough to use, but the man did not flinch.

 

“You would be wise not to threaten me, Kwon.” The King's response was ice cold, but Junhong noticed the way his eyes glanced to him and he knew the man would not be comfortable with the distance between them.

 

Kwon's jaw was set and his teeth clenched and he lifted his right hand, flicking his index and middle fingers forward in silent command. The two guards stepped further into the room, their movements slow until in an unexpected rush they moved with coordination around the desk.

 

Junhong gasped as he felt hands grip his wrists, pinning them behind his back and he was forced forward, his spine straight and his eyes scrunching closed. When they re-opened his blood ran cold. The scar-faced guard was standing behind the King, his strong grip keeping him bound, while the other held Himchan in much the same manner. By the shelves built against the wall, General Kwon held Jongup, the young soldier expressionless and tense with his gaze switching with haste between the royal brothers.

 

“Try to keep calm.” A hushed voice whispered so quietly into Junhong's ear that he barely heard it and he realised then that the hands that gripped him so tightly belonged to Youngjae, “Just take deep breaths and keep silent.”

 

He nodded once minutely, his tongue feeling too heavy to speak.

 

“You think you can just say 'no' to me?” Kwon asked, his tone loud and strained, Junhong could tell he was bordering on hysterics, “Do you know what your bastard father put me through? Do you know the humiliation I faced at his hands only for him to die and for _you_ to continue on with such a grand tradition?” The guard shoved Yongguk forward and forced him down onto his knees before Kwon. Junhong's fingers curled into a fist and he couldn't control the way his heart raced in his chest at the sight of Yongguk so calm while at the mercy of a man who could kill him with no remorse.

 

“It is not easy to get away with murdering a King.” Yongguk's tone was steady and his gaze severe as he looked up to his captor, chest rising and falling in the same slow rhythm it always did.

 

Kwon twitched and he hissed, “It would be _easy_ to get away with killing you. Lords across the land would praise me for such a thing.” He said, fingers sinking into Yongguk's hair and wrenching his head back in an attempt to stir him, yet again it was unsuccessful.

 

Himchan stood tense in the hold of the other guard, watching the treatment of his brother. “Hurry up, Daehyun.” Youngjae whispered into the air, and Junhong silently joined him in such a prayer.

 

“It would be easy to tell such a terrible tale of your tragic, untimely death, _Your Majesty.”_ Kwon spat out the title, “I would lament before the court about how your bitter and jealous illegitimate brother was overcome with his ambition and killed you so tragically in this study. I would touch my heart,” He did the action of which he spoke, the combination of his gentle movements and sinister words sending another wave of fear through Junhong's body, “And I would tell of how my brother and I and our guards heard the commotion but we just did not make it in time to protect you, even though we took your brother from over your slaughtered body and killed him in our hopes of saving your life.”

 

All Junhong could do was watch as Lord Kwon's hand gravitated to his side and he withdrew a crimson-hilted dagger, his fingers curving tight around it and he brought it down to press against Yongguk's exposed throat, “I could kill you, your brother and your brother's toy right now.” The man said, his own eyes focused on his blade, “And then before I gave your whore to my brother, I would cut out his tongue so he would never speak a word. He doesn't need that to be fucked.”

 

General Kwon was focused on the words his brother spoke and in his distraction, his grip loosened around Jongup's wrists. The trained soldier easily twisted himself from the General's grip with a hard elbow into his gut and he pulled free, his hand immediately drawing his own dagger from his side and knocking away the weapon from where it was held to his King's throat.

 

“Jongup-” Himchan said, but the man who held him gripped him tighter, forcing him to follow his brother onto his knees. The boy moved forward and with a swift, practiced combination of movement he easily knocked the knife from the Lord's hands and it went sliding across the stone floor towards the door.

 

The General had stumbled backwards at the hard knock to his stomach but he quickly recovered and rushed forward. Youngjae's lips pressed to Junhong's ear and he whispered harshly, “Close your eyes.” The younger did as he was told, his eyes screwing shut. He heard a shuffle, then the sound of a blade singing through air, then the metallic scream of metal on metal. Another shuffle, another swipe and then once again a blade clattered to the floor, a deafening thud and then all Junhong knew was the agonised scream torn from Himchan's throat.

 

“Jongup!” He screamed, his voice cracking and Junhong felt his tears burn behind his eyes, “Jongup... Jongup, no!” Himchan began to repeat, his tone begging as he tried to shift forward. Junhong did not believe he had ever heard simple syllables sound so alike agony in his life.

 

“His death was inevitable, Prince.” Lord Kwon murmured, his voice breathless and Junhong had to open his eyes. He couldn't look at Jongup as his face contorted in pain and he lay bleeding and dying on the study floor, nor could he look at Himchan as the man struggled to get towards his most treasured love. All Junhong could focus on was Kwon.

 

Lord Kwon stepped forward again and he bent down, lifting his dagger from the stone floor and wipinb it on his robe as he began to advance once again towards his King. Junhong swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath before his hand began to blindly search Youngjae's side. They brushed over the hem of his tunic, then rubbed the dark brown leather of his belt before the tip of his index finger nudged at the rounded hilt of his blade, “What are you doing...” Youngjae whispered harshly as he felt the Southerner slightly twist in his hold and curve his hand around the hilt. Junhong did not make a sound of response, silently repeating over and over in his mind: _Lunge, parry, withdraw, lunge, parry withdraw._

 

“And now you die, King.” Kwon said, raising his own weapon into the air. A crash came from the hallway, followed by the sound of crowded movement and the second that Kwon turned his head in distraction Junhong pulled free of his restraints and he lunged forward.

 

There was a shout of his name as his body collided with Lord Kwon's causing the man to stumble back in surprise. The Northerner's lips curled in rage and he took a messy swipe at Junhong's front but the courtesan parried, knocking the blade aside and stepping forward with both hands curved around the hilt of his dagger and thrusting it into the chest of the man before him.

 

Hot blood seeped from the open wound and over Junhong's hands as he withdrew his weapon and thrust it once again into Lord Kwon's gaping chest before he released his hold and watched the man stumble backward and collapse upon the stone floor.

 

Everything was suddenly a rush of movement. The door was thrown open and Daehyun ran in, accompanied by royal guards all of whom had their blades drawn. There was shouting and another scuffle of movement but all Junhong could see was the body of the man he had killed, his blood stained hands held out before him with his red palms facing up towards the roof.

 

Himchan lurched forward, dropping down to his knees beside the body of his bleeding love, his hands dragging him close to cradle him in his lap, “Jongup... Jongup, my beautiful love...” He said, his fingers smoothing over Jongup's cheek.

 

Jongup's weak eyes fluttered and opened part way, his lips curving into a weak smile, “Himchan...” He mumbled, “You're... You're okay...” He was out of breath, his skin ghostly pale.

 

“I'll kill him. I'll kill him for doing this to you.” Himchan grit out through clenched teeth, his forehead pressing to his beloved's own, their noses brushing. A hasty kiss was pressed to Jongup's parted and chapped lips but he was too weak to reciprocate, instead releasing a pained sound.

 

“Someone send for a physician!” Daehyun yelled as guards restrained the General and his cronies and dragged them away.

 

“Himchan...” Jongup whispered, “You're crying.” The words were soft and simple, but he paused in his speech to whimper in pain, his weak body close to losing it's fight for life, “Don't cry, Himchan.”

 

“You will not die.” Himchan said, his voice harsh, his teeth grit together, “I will not let you fucking die.”

 

“The King is safe... That is what... matters.” Jongup's hand brushed against Himchan's cheek. It left behind a smear of blood. “You know I will wait for you... on the Plains of Noeul.”

 

“You will not die!” Himchan repeated through choked tears but he was helpless as the younger went limp in his arms, shaking his head, “No... No, no! No!”

 

Daehyun lead the physician to Jongup's side, his fingers pressing to the side of his neck, “His heart is beating, but it is not strong. Help me carry him.” Daehyun carefully pulled Himchan back, holding his arms secure as the Physician and two guards lifted Jongup into their arms and carried him with haste down the corridor but in the commotion still Junhong stared at the pool of blood tha spread steadily around the slaughtered foe.

 

Familiar arms wound around him and a palm brushed the back of his head and soon, Junhong's face was pressed into the familiar shoulder of his loving King, his full lips brushing over his ear, “Don't look at him.” Yongguk murmured, cradling Junhong close.

 

“I-I killed-” Junhong stuttered out, choking on his words as tears fell over his cheeks, his breaths picking up pace. He thought he was going to be sick as the smell of blood and death hung in the air.

 

“Shh...” Yongguk whispered, “It's over. It's all over.” With Yongguk's voice soft in his ear and those safe arms secure around him, Junhong closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

 

*

 

When Junhong awoke the first thing he saw was evening light over tiled floors. It took him a second to get his bearings but soon he realised that he was laying on the divan that sat at the edge of the King's bedchamber. The room was silent, but when he looked up he realised he was not alone.

 

Youngjae sat upon the floor, his knees up and his back pressed against the wall while his gaze followed the others who surrounded him. Daehyun stood by the King in the centre of the room and they watched Himchan as he sat upon the edge of the King's bed stroking Jongup's hair as the boy lay pale and motionless.

 

The royal physician was gently using water and cloth to clean around the wound in his stomach, attempting to soothe the skin and keep the wound clean from infection. Junhong could see that the soldiers chest was rising and falling weakly and he had the painful realisation that this wound was something Jongup would not likely survive.

 

Daehyun was shifting where he stood, his arms folding across his chest. “He will be welcomed as a hero on the Plains of Noeul, Himchan.” He said, his words an attempt of comfort, “There would be no more pain or suffering after his death.”

 

“You hold your tongue, Jung Daehyun, before I cut it from your mouth.” Himchan replied with a calm ferocity without shifting his gaze. Junhong could see that the General's face was set into one of a devastating loss of hope. His brows were furrowed and his eyes filled with a fire of hatred as he continued to stroke through Jongup's dirty hair.

 

Yongguk's hand touched Daehyun's chest, silencing him from his reply before the words could be uttered, there was little use in provoking an argument now, not when the Prince was in such a state.

 

The door was pushed open and Yongguk's head turned to watch as a cleric entered. He glanced towards the bed before turning to the King, “Your Majesty. General Kwon and his guards have been detained in the dungeons. A group has also been sent after Lady Kwon, they aim to find her not long after sunrise, before she arrives to her home.”

 

“Lady Kwon disproved of their plans. She did not wish to be involved.” Youngjae said from his place on the floor.

 

“Never the less, she will need to be tried for treason.” the cleric spoke, glancing back to the King as he watched his brother.

 

“Thank you.” He dismissed and the cleric bowed his way from the room, closing the door behind himself.

 

Daehyun released a slow exhale from his chest, glancing to his King, “For as long as General Kwon is alive, he will be a threat to you and Huingol.”

 

“I know.” Yongguk replied simply. For the first time since Junhong awoke, Himchan lifted his gaze and the royal brother's eyes met in silent communication, “Do what needs to be done, brother.”

 

Himchan stepped forward towards the heavy wooden door, halting his movements beside the King, “You will not leave his side for even one second when I am gone or so help me God.” He said, and Yongguk nodded.

 

The door fell closed with a heavy thud behind Himchan and once again the room was left in silence.

 

“Will Jongup be okay?” Junhong asked as he carefully pushed himself to sit up straighter on the bed. Yongguk turned to look at his beloved, not having noticed that he had awakened but no one replied. No one knew how.

 

*

 

The stairs into the dungeon were cold and wet and the entire underground complex stunk of rot. The guard stood when he saw the prince, his expression serious as he surveyed the man who very rarely would descend into the darkest depths of the palace.

 

“Cell nineteen?” A simple nod was all the question was awarded and soon the Prince was being lead down a damp corridor, between the heavy wood doors of each cell and the dark was only illuminated by the torch alight in the Guards hand, and the few that dotted the walls. At the very end of the corridor, where it was darkest, they stopped. From somewhere behind the door, chains rattled in time with the sound of heavy metal keys meeting one another as the jailer searched for the correct one.

 

Key in lock, soon the cell was opened and Himchan lay his eyes on General Kwon, kneeling in his fine silks on the filth of the dungeon floors. In the top corner of the room, a small grate window brought in light from the setting sun, as well as the cold wind of the valley winter.

 

“G-General Kim!” The man said from the floor, his chained hands raising before him as his eyes flicked frantically around the room. His hands were still coated in a layer of Jongup's blood. “General Kim it is an honour.. An _honour_ to see you down here. I assure you, I am sorry. My brother, he is insane! I have always been faithful to the crown please.. _Please_ forgive such a terrible mistake. I would never wish harm upon the King, my brother has been manipulative and ambitious. It has always been such an honour to serve the crown in your armies, General Kim.” The man prostrated upon the floor at the feet of the prince, his voice a hasty rush of pleading compliments but was met with nothing but silence.

 

The guard stepped back and as the cell door swung closed, Himchan drew his sword.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.... Holy shit. If you guys knew the heart palpitations I have while posting this you would send me to a hospital.  
> I have been writing this chapter in my head since I began writing Valley of the Horse King in February and it feels somewhat surreal to finally have it written out on paper in front of me.
> 
> I really honestly hope that you enjoy reading it. We're almost there, just a little further to go xo


	11. Epilogue

The sun set on winter and rose again on spring. Snow had began to melt and soon Huingol was waking from it's hibernation and bustling again with life. Days were growing longer and the nights warmer and the mood of the palace was lifting after the wave of violence and tragedy.

 

In the afternoon of a spring day, Junhong sat stationary behind a desk in one of the King's many libraries. He could hear the sound of trickling water from the courtyard just beyond the window, the ice having already melted and the streams were once again able to flow. Large books and parchment were spread out before him, his spine straight as he sat in his simple black attire, hair pulled from his face in a ponytail that sat high on the crown of his head.

 

“And with the power of Noeul, he...” The boy hesitated and sucked in a breath, “Br-brought the sword of Saekon-”

 

“Sekwan.” Youngjae corrected from where he sat upon the divan across the room, a book of his own held tightly in his right hand, “Start again.”

 

Junhong frowned and huffed slightly, his eyes sliding with frustration over the characters before him. He didn't understand how people were able to read with such ease and so he glanced to his tutor with pouted lips, “It's only hard because your hand writing is so difficult to read.” He whined, pushing the documents away from him, “I much prefer it when Yongguk teaches me. He is more patient, and his writing is a lot nicer. He is also just a lot nicer to me in general.”

 

“Mmm maybe thats why he wants me to tutor you.” Youngjae replied with a sly grin as he looked over, “He knows I won't coddle you the way he does. I'll tell you when you get things wrong, besides it will be helpful for you to learn to read difficult writing.”

 

“Why didn't anyone warn me about how _hard_ it is to read.” Junhong groaned, his hand lifting to fiddle with the stud that had remained in his nose, twisting it around. When Yongguk had disposed of his veil he had asked if the ex-courtesan wanted to remove the piercing as well, _“No._ ” He had said, with his fingers brushing the white crystal, _“I quite like it.”_

 

“Did you really think it would be easy?” Youngjae asked with an arched brow, “At least I don't make you read boring documents about how many saddles there are in the stables, or how many suits of armour need to be delegated for each General's troops.”

 

“At least that is repetitive so I get familiar with the words.” Junhong said back, his eyes fixed on the shapes before him, “I don't just read lists with him, though. Sometimes we read poetry together... Or he teaches me songs.”

 

Youngjae's teasing smile warmed and he sighed, “Who expected the King to fall in love with a peasant.” He said with affection, setting his book aside and standing. He rounded the desk and leant over Junhong's shoulder, “Now, we must continue. No beloved of the King can be illiterate.” Youngjae was a tough teacher, but he was fair and Junhong had been thrilled when Yongguk had told him of his friend's new position in the palace, after the death of the Kwon brothers left him no longer a spy for the crown. Though Junhong knew that if Youngjae's services were ever required again, he would be called upon.

 

Junhong sighed and nodded, his finger tracing just below the line as he started from the top of the page, “Soldiers advanced and the brave knights of Huingol stood tall.” He began but was interrupted again by the door carefully pushing open.

 

The younger's eyes lifted to look up and his lips spread into a crooked smile. Jongup stood in the doorway, his face pale and his body obviously weak, but a smile was upon his face, “Junhong-ah... Your reading is getting a lot better.” He stepped into the room slowly, supported by a wooden crutch beneath his arm.

 

“The General won't be pleased to see you out of bed.” Youngjae said as he straightened up, allowing Junhong to stand and cross the room, eager to support his friend. They had spent many afternoons together as of late, when Himchan left Jongup in bed and did not want his lover to be alone and the hours of talking and sharing had left them closer than either of the royal brothers had anticipated.

 

“I am a lot stronger than Himchan-hyung likes to admit. This is not my first injury, and I will heal just fine from this one, too.” Jongup said with a warm smile to his dear friend, gently nudging his side, “My wound healed over weeks ago, now it is just a matter of getting my strength back, and I cannot do that confined to a bed.”

 

“You know he is simply worried.” Junhong said, stepping back when Jongup straightened his stance.

 

“I know.” Jongup nodded. He was wearing a deep blue robe that looked ruffled and Junhong assumed he had pulled it on after getting out of bed. He was thinner than he had been and Junhong knew that beneath the loose fabric he wore his muscles were smaller and his body lacked its old definition, but he was alive and they all knew Himchan thanked the gods every day for that.

 

“Does he keep you updated with palace affairs?” Junhong asked. The General had to tear himself from his lover's warmth for many hours a day, and Jongup was used to attending all meetings and conferences beside him. In comparison the lack of knowledge about what was going on in the Palace would leave Jongup feeling blind and left out.

 

“He says he does not wish to add extra strain to me by telling me of politics.” Jongup smiled with a small shake of his head, “He did tell me of Seonmi's trial, though.”

 

Junhong's smile was tight. They very rarely spoke of the Kwons, not since Lord and General Kwon had been killed in the winter past, “Yongguk-hyung told me of that, too.”

 

“I am glad she will live.” Jongup admitted, his head tilting to the side, “She showed remorse for what her father and uncle did.”

 

“And Himchan?” Junhong asked, his brows furrowed.

 

Jongup's smile was sad as he turned his gaze to the floor, “Himchan will blame every Kwon on the peninsula for what happened to me. The anger within him is strong.” He admitted, fingers curling into the silks of his robe. It was Himchan's. “Lady Kim has been caring for me as of late, and she says that she believes he blames himself for what happened. He thinks it was his fault I was not protected.”

 

“There was nothing he could have done.” Youngjae spoke, having taken to leaning against the windowsill. Jongup nodded and sighed.

 

“She says his love for me far outweighs reason. All he knows is that I was almost killed and while he has punished General Kwon for the act... He will now instead choose to punish himself for not preventing it.” The man said, brows furrowed.

 

“I am glad Lady Kim has been caring for you.” Junhong said.

 

“She has been a dear friend to me for many years.” Jongup replied, his hands pressing together as he leant more weight on his crutch, “I was pleased when she came to care for me, as I was when Hwayah and you came as well.”

 

“I am not surprised she did, she is one of many people who wish to help you in your recovery. Himchan knows you adore one another, and he would give you anything you wished for.” Junhong chuckled, his smile knowing but Jongup shook his head and laughed.

 

“Unless he believes it be detrimental to my recovery, which apparently is most things.” The young soldier smiled, “And you, Junhongie, do your studies go well? I know Yongguk-hyung is very determined to have you reading by Summer.”

 

“They are coming along somewhat well...” Junhong said, chuckling tiredly, “It is hard, and Youngjae-hyung is a slave driver.”

 

“I'm not surprised.” Jongup laughed, pushing his messy hair from his eyes. He was already starting to look tired and when the door once again pushed open to allow a servant entry, Youngjae stepped forward.

 

“I am glad you two can agree on how difficult I am.” He said, his hand brushing along Jongup's spine, “But for now, I am going to return Jongup to his bed. It is my head that will be on a platter when Himchan finds out you were here with us.”

 

The servant stood in the doorway, moving just inside, “Master Junhong, His Majesty requires you in the Wangbeojnamu courtyard.”

 

“Thank you.” He dismissed the servant, who left the study just as quietly as he had come. Youngjae's arm was secure around Jongup's middle as the man tiredly leant into him.

 

“I would not allow Himchan-hyung to be angry with you.” He assured Youngjae, who chuckled and shook his head.

 

“He would not kill me in front of you, he is too protective. He would wait until you fell asleep.” The northerner cracked a rare joke and Jongup smiled, shaking his head but remaining silent as he was steered into the hall. Junhong watched them go with a smile, thankful that there were so many people he could honestly trust within the palace walls.

 

The southerner closed the book he had read and set it aside for later, he was sure Youngjae would have him picking up the same tome during his next lesson. Quietly, he moved into the hallway, twisting through the tangle of corridors until he found himself entering the expanse of the Wangbeojnamu courtyard.

 

Himchan and Yongguk stood talking beneath the skeleton of the silver tree that hung over the simple stream in the courtyard's centre and Daehyun stood off to the side. While the royal brothers were dressed in their usual riches, Daehyun instead wore black silks with a deep brown belt and leather gauntlets around each of his wrists, a sword hanging at his side.

 

After what had transpired with the Kwons, Yongguk had chosen the one person he trusted most in the palace as his only bodyguard, and Daehyun had taken to the role like a fish to water.

 

“They've taken to the new Lord well.” Himchan was saying, his arms folded across his chest, “And with Seonmi's imprisonment, the townspeople are more relaxed.”

 

Yongguk was nodding and he opened his mouth to speak before noticing Junhong standing in the doorway. His full lips spread across his teeth in a warm smile, “My jewel.” He greeted, reaching out an arm. It was not a command as it once had been, instead an offer, and an offer Junhong was eager to take.

 

He crossed the courtyard and slipped his hand into Yongguk's, allowing himself to be dragged in against the King's chest, “Hello, Hyung.” He greeted, smiling at the press of lips to his temple.

 

“How went your studies?” Yongguk asked. The way that his gaze focused so wholly on his beloved had Junhong smiling, his heart warm in his chest.

 

“Well, Hyung. Jonguppie came and joined us for a little while.” He said, which had General Kim frowning.

 

“He did what?” He asked, a huff passing his lips, “I have told him not to leave bed.” The man's brows furrowed and his shoulders tensed, but Yongguk merely sent his brother a smile.

 

“Go to him, Himchan-ah.” He said, and the General pursed his lips, eager to depart and return to his lover.

 

“I'll speak with you later.” The General responded, not wasting a moment and taking his leave.

 

The King turned his head and looked to his bodyguard as the Southerner stood in silent watch, “You may leave us, too. I know there are places in the palace you would rather be, and people you would rather be with.”

 

“Your majesty-” Daehyun said, his tone one of formality. All three knew such was not necessary.

 

“You may go, Daehyun-ah. Junhong has protected me well enough in the past.” The King assured his guard. Daehyun nodded his head and with a bow, left them alone beneath the tree.

 

“I missed you.” Junhong murmured, his hand settling upon his King's shoulder. The late afternoon light left a golden wash over Yongguk's skin and Junhong thought he looked even more radiant than usual.

 

“It has only been a few hours.” The King teased as he trailed tender kisses along Junhong's fair neck, his nose nudging at the skin.

 

“A few hours is still too many.” Junhong insisted, laughing at the ticklish brush of breath against his sensitive nape. Yongguk chuckled and scraped his teeth over the skin and withdrew, standing back to gaze at his love.

 

“I wanted to show you something.” He hummed, brushing Junhong's hair from his forehead, pressing a kiss to it just a moment later. The younger tilted his head in curiosity and lifted a hand to settle it upon his King's shoulder.

 

“Look up...” Yongguk murmured, gesturing to the uppermost branches of the silver tree. Junhong turned his head and lifted his gaze, his eyes landing upon the small pink buds that peeped from between folded green leaves. Some petals were exposed, their soft roundness looking so delicate that Junhong feared if they were touched, they would fall apart.

 

“It's flowering...” He breathed in a sense of wonder.

 

“It is.” Yongguk replied, his focus remaining upon his lover as the younger sought after the array of petals and new growth that sprouted from what he had once believed was a skeleton, “Because with spring, comes new beginnings.” The King murmured, “My father once told me that beyond the coast of the southern lands lays an island covered in these trees. He said that when spring comes, the land sways in an ocean of pink blossoms, and the scent is intoxicating. This tree was brought to Huingol by a Lord from that island as a gift many years before even my father was born.”

 

“They are beautiful.” Junhong said, transfixed.

 

Yongguk's smile was adoring as he gazed upon his beautiful love, “This was not the only reason I asked for you to join me.” He admitted, “There is something of which I would like to speak with you. Come, walk with me.”

 

Junhong contentedly joined his beloved King in movements across the courtyard and back into the twisting halls of the palace. Their silence was comfortable as they moved past rooms and kitchens, between practice yards until they were ascending stairs and stepping up onto the walls of the city. Guards turned and bowed to their King, while the flag of Huingol stood by that of the united Joseon Peninsula and flowed in the Spring breeze.

 

The valley was bathed in sunset light. The snow capped mountains surrounded an endless green. Laid out before the palace was grass dotted with blooming wildflowers that lined the single road which dipped down into the dense forest and became obscured by trees. It held a serenity and silence but Junhong knew that between evergreen branches, the forest teamed with innocent animal life.

 

Yongguk's palms pressed flat against the stone wall and he looked out into the distance, “I have decided to journey south.” He said, “Too long have I kept myself hidden away in the valley. It is time for me to travel out and to meet with my subjects.” His tone was decided, “I have been too unaware of what is going on throughout the peninsula, and maybe if I had taken the time to see for myself... We would have anticipated the movement of the Kwon's, maybe villages would never have been burned, and your family would still be alive.” Yongguk turned to him, eyes filled with regret, “For that, Junhong-ah, I am sorry.”

 

“How long would you be gone?” The younger asked. He stepped closer in the chill evening air, pressing to Yongguk's side for warmth.

 

“Weeks... Months maybe. I have yet to decide.” The King replied as he brought his beloved in against his chest, “Himchan will not leave Huingol, not with Jongup as weak as he is, and in his place I wish for you to accompany me. I want to take you back to where you came from, Junhong. I want to take you home.” His voice was low as he turned to face Junhong, “I hope to find your village on the coast and we will say a prayer together for every life lost there. We shall build a monument of stones and hope that Noeul will protect their spirits with her light.”

 

A lump was swelling in Junhong's throat and the younger had to look down. He focused on the dark hem of Yongguk's simple robes, his fingers sliding over the edge gently as the King continued.

 

“I want to make a promise, Junhong, to your father that he will never need to worry for you again, that after his death you will be cared for. I want to promise your brother that you will learn to read and write, and that you will live a long life as a strong and educated man.” Their foreheads pressed together and Junhong closed his eyes, “And I want to promise your mother, my love, that when she sacrificed her life to save yours it was not in vain. I want to promise her that I will live my life to protect you, and I want her to know that her son has grown to become the kindest and bravest man I have ever known and the only person I will ever love more than I value life its self.”

 

Familiar palms pressed to his cheeks and soon he was being kissed and finally, he allowed the tears to flow. Never before had he felt so cherished than he did in that moment, bathed in the light of the setting sun and cradled in the hands of a man who he loved, and who loved him. With eyes closed, Junhong simply breathed in the scent of spring and of Yongguk as he felt the warmth of a supporting shoulder under his cheek and strong arms wrapped tight around him. He could hear the blood as it pounded in his ears.

 

The uncertainty of the future had him unaware of what was yet to come, but just like the inevitability of changing seasons, Junhong knew that he would always be home in the valley of the horse king.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One final definition for the story: Wangjeobnamu- 'King Cherry' the only kind of Cherry Blossom native to Korea (specifically, Jeju), all other cherry blossom trees have been introduced from Japan.
> 
> Finally, after four months of writing, Valley of the Horse King is complete. This story holds a very special place in my heart, and to finally have the final instalment posted leaves me feeling melancholy but what I want to focus on, is how grateful I feel.
> 
> At the point of my posting this, my story has 3384 reads across the two websites on which I have it posted, and I never anticipated the story to reach those kinds of numbers. It is the largest number of reads I have ever had for anything I have written, and the thought of that many people having read something I have written makes my knees weak and it makes me feel a little bit dizzy.
> 
> I want to sincerely thank each and every person who commented, gave kudos, subscribed, voted up, bookmarked, reblogged my promo posts on tumblr (just so you know, every time I see someone reblog it I stalk you to read what you said in tags, don't you think I didn't), shared with their friends or tweeted about (same goes for tumblr I see you and I thank you) this story. I have been absolutely overwhelmed with the kindness, support and amazing encouragement I have received and I can't tell you have grateful I am.
> 
> Finally and most of all I want to thank my amazing friend, confidant (and writing goals queen) [Moonyeyedwalrus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus). You have given me the most incredible love and support (and comments!) throughout this story. I don't know how I would survive without your feedback, input, fangirling, and talking me out of just deleting the whole story and forgetting it ever happened. I really hope you know this story (and what comes next) is all for you.
> 
> This is not the end for Huingol - and more specifically it is not the end for Himchan and Jongup. 
> 
> Thank you all again for everything.
> 
> xo


End file.
